


King's College

by MyOwnNarrative



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, F/M, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-05-21 08:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 25,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6045514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOwnNarrative/pseuds/MyOwnNarrative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A modern, college au of Hamilton. In which, Alexander Hamilton is a brilliant young man from the pits of Harlem. His mother has been sick since he was twelve, and any already slim chance of going to college went out the window with the arrival of her medical expenses. However, when the position of headmaster is thrust upon an inexperienced history teacher named George Washington, he begins a reform policy for a small college in upstate New York that will bring together a strange arrangement of students, including Alexander, and, inevitably, trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Laurens

John Laurens was big news on campus. Everyone knew his name, and most people knew his story, but it was surprisingly rare to find someone who had actually held a conversation with him. When he was sober, at least.

It was common knowledge that he came from a well-enough-off family that he shouldn't have been going to a no name liberal college in upstate New York. It was generally speculated that his father had nearly disowned him, and he got all of his money from a credit card he had swiped from home before coming to college. It was also widely known that he wouldn't have touched a pre law major like political science with a ten foot pole, had it not been for his fear of being completely cut off by his father. Most people said the only reason he wanted to avoid being disowned was because he needed money for booze. Some people said that wasn't true, and that he actually did have a soft spot for his family, you just had to get to know him. And, no one was sure who was right, because, despite all the talk about John Laurens, not many people did get to know him.

John Laurens had two best friends. It was as simple as that, and he liked it that simple. He had met Hercules Mulligan in Political Theory. They had both been loitering across the hallway from the dreaded class when, without a word between them, it became a competition. Whether the goal was to look the busiest, or simply stay out of class the longest, Laurens doubted either of them knew for sure. In the end, John lost, deciding that he didn't want to miss the entirety of his first class, he caved and entered the lecture room. The entire room had gone silent, and John had stood awkwardly as the door swung shut behind him, his peers all staring piercingly at him.

"John Laurens?" The professor asked in a distasteful tone that made a few students snicker. "Congratulations on gaining the title of 'most tardy'." His voice resembled a yawn, and he marked something down on a booklet on his podium. However, before he could finish his disinterested chiding, Hercules Mulligan burst through the door.

"I'm sorry, prof!" He yelled, his tone unapologetic despite his words. "That title goes to yours truly, Hercules Mulligan."

Ever since then, Hercules and John had been good friends. Ever since then, they had been a favorite topic of conversation campus wide. It took them no time at all to find the final piece of their trio, Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette. A foreign exchange student from France, who liked to cause as much racket as John and Hercules. The two boys met their final friend after saving him from the merciless grip of Thomas Jefferson, who had been relentlessly questioning Lafayette on the topic of his home country.

It took less than a week for the three to become closer than they ever had been with anyone else. Hercules kicked his roommate out of his dorm without hesitation to accommodate Lafayette, who's room had been dangerously close to Thomas's. The three had chosen two trees and a picnic table in the school's central courtyard to mark as theirs, and they found that it was rarely occupied by other students after they had claimed it. It just so happened to be where they were when they met Alexander Hamilton.

"Yo!" John was the first to sight the new guy, as usual. He had a good eye for faces, especially attractive males ones, and he never forgot someone's name. He was a people person, even more so than his (still incredibly extroverted) friends. "Look who Burr's showing around." He called to his friends, who were hanging from different limbs in the nearby magnolia trees. Hercules, who was hanging upside down, twisted himself, almost violently, to catch a glimpse of who John was pointing at.

Burr was one of those kids who everyone knew, but no one actually _knew_. Everyone had heard of him but, unlike John, there was little knowledge or speculation about him or his life. He was easily left forgotten, and many people thought he preferred it that way. He was quiet, always wore the same, old, worn baseball cap and, aside from that, tended to dress in boring, unmemorable outfits. He was relatively smart, and extraordinarily ordinary. And, no one questioned it.

"What time is it?" John yelled at the top of his lungs, watching in smug satisfaction as the new boy's head whipped around to look at him. Burr shot him a weary look, and passed a comment to his new companion that John had no doubt was some kind of warning against becoming friends with the trio. It was a tad hypocritical, as Burr himself was a good friend of John's. Lafayette, in his excitement for their routine, nearly fell on his face while jumping down from his tree. Hercules didn't move from his hanging spot, but joined in on their charade.

"Showtime, showtime!" Hercules and Lafayette yelled in unison.

John shot effortlessly into a fast paced freestyle rap, while watching as Burr gave up trying to keep the new guy away from the spectacle. John finished up his rap, handing off the torch to Lafayette as the new guy drew closer. Burr hung behind, but followed, despite himself.

After Hercules, still hanging upside down, had finished his rap, John stepped forward.

"Aaron Burr, give us a verse, drop some knowledge!" He extended the invitation as a guise for keeping the other kid around longer, but Burr shut him down faster than usual.

"I'd love to," Burr said sarcastically, stepping in front of the new guy. "But, I'm doing work, like I came to college to do."

"Oh really?" Asked Lafayette, smirking at the boy behind Burr. "Because, it seems to me, that you're on a romantic stroll through campus, and you're angry we've interrupted you." Burr's face dropped into a disapproving stare as he pointedly ignored Lafayette's taunting.

"And who exactly are you doing this 'work' with?" John asked, keeping Lafayette's joking tone, which only seemed to aggravate Burr further. John tried to poke his head around Burr to get a better look at the boy behind him,but Burr side stepped so that he remained directly between the new guy and the campus's three biggest troublemakers.

"It _is_ work." He insisted, apparently still stuck on what Lafayette had said, despite pretending to ignore him. "I'm giving someone a tour of the school on the headmaster's orders."

"Oooh." Hercules drawled, finally dropping from his spot in the trees with a flawless back flip. He landed seamlessly on his feet. "The headmaster." He echoed Burr in mock excitement. The headmaster was new and, with all that was going on at the school that year, many people believed he still had to prove himself.

"Yes, the headmaster." Burr replied, doing his best to seem unperturbed by Hercules's disrespect. 

“Well,” Lafayette scolded, heaving himself up on the nearby picnic table. He laid himself across it as if he was posing for a sexy photo shoot. “To give a proper tour you need to showcase all the best parts of campus life.” Hercules let out a snort of laughter before containing himself. John turned his back on Laf, and gave Burr a rueful smile. 

Burr said nothing, his expression didn't even shift, but he stepped out of the way. The new guy stood, frozen, staring at Lafayette in confusion. He wore a baggy ‘I heart NYC’ t-shirt, and moth-eaten khakis. His figure was slight, and John wondered when this guy had last seen a real meal. He was attractive, though, with an all-angles kind of face, and long, black hair draped into a lazy bun at the nape of his neck. It occurred to John that there was nothing objectively cute about the man in front of him, and yet it all somehow worked itself out into a strangely appealing, disheveled look. 

“Welcome to the most god forsaken college on the planet.” John’s tone was light, but he wasn't too far off. King's College was small, bordering on bankruptcy, and turbulent. With the recent change in administration, paired with the integration of female students for the first time, it wasn't hard to find students who believed the school would fall apart before the year’s end. But, John hadn't meant for his comment to be facetious, after all, he'd practically had a choice of any university in the country, and he'd chosen King’s. “I'm John Laurens.”

“But you can call him JLo!” Lafayette called from the table behind him. 

“Or Two Pints.” Hercules pitched in with his preferred name for John. The nickname was a joke at the expense of John’s inability to hold his liquor. It was given to him after a long debate on whether Lightweight was a creative enough title. Apparently, it wasn’t.

But,in all the excitement, no one bothered to explain any of this to their new friend.

“And I'm Hercules Mulligan.” Hercules introduced himself with a small, sarcastic bow. “And this is-”

And, in unison, as they did with every person they met, Hercules and John finished the introductions. “Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette!”

“Lafayette.” Lafayette clarified, indignantly rising from his spot on the picnic table. “My name is Lafayette, but you can call me Laf.” John and Hercules knew how much their friend hated his full name, and that was precisely why they introduced him the way they did. 

“My name is Alexander Hamilton.” It turned out, Alexander was nearly bored to tears getting a tour from Burr (“No one blames you,” Hercules had consoled him, “we all would be.”). It only took the trio fives minutes to steal Alexander away from Burr, who only bothered to protest a little before giving up entirely. Lafayette would later joke that he wouldn’t be surprised if everyone felt the world change a little that day. Nothing would ever be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...  
> Hope you're enjoying the story! And, sorry in advance for some of my head cannons, such as the one that John is the love-sick one of the Lams pairing. I know that, historically, that was not the case, but it's just so much cuter that way. Anyway, thanks for reading, and feedback is always appreciated!


	2. Washington

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headmaster George Washington, his struggles as an inexperienced head of school, his suspicions concerning the college board, his efforts to keep King's afloat, and his deal with Alexander Hamilton.

George Washington was not a headmaster. He had graduated college what now seemed like an eternity ago, ready to teach history to young men and women. He had landed himself at King's College, a small, poor and nearly ancient all boys college in New England. He had married a young widow named Martha, made enough to support her and her children, and lived a relatively happy life. He was never able to have any children of his own, although no doctor seemed to have an answer as to why. He lived a happy, stable life.

However, that wasn't so much the case anymore. His pay was beyond sufficient for the time being, leading a school paid better than teaching at one. It was the longevity of his position that worried him. King's College was running near bankruptcy, and admissions weren't doing well either, as the school wasn't well known. Plus with new, and what Washington was sure was severely inexperienced, leadership, it wasn't likely the school would stay afloat. There were some suspicions, and a handful of rumors, that the school's failure was exactly what the college board was aiming for. King's College was a black hole for funding, no money that went into it ever seemed to come back out, and it's comfortable position in a picturesque grove near Albany would have been perfect for a better school to occupy. 

But, George Washington was stubborn and, if you asked his wife, had a certain rebellious nature that not even age could dampen. The first thing Washington considered was financials. He knew if admissions didn't pick up, the school wouldn't last another year. He knew of two sure-fire ways to raise admissions: open the pool of people who could admit themselves, or make the news. And he did both in one (although he never would have described it as such himself) brilliant move. Within days, and with little opposition from the staff of the college, he had authorized King's College as a coed facility. Days afterwards he began his search, along with the understaffed admissions office, for some of the most brilliant minds across America. All he could offer many of them were full rides, and the promise of a unique experience. 

To his surprise and pleasure, many did come. Thomas Jefferson, a genius with words, and who had promise in the field of politics. Angelica Schuyler, and her younger sisters, all brilliant young women, with a father who would be willing to support the college financially. Aaron Burr, an orphaned young man, who had graduated high school at the age of thirteen, and had since occupied himself with independent studies. And, Alexander Hamilton. A diamond in the rough, and a tough find. He was from one of the less desirable neighborhoods in Harlem, with a sick mother, and an incredibly sharp mind. He had worked two jobs, in addition to school, since he was twelve and had graduated without a grade below an A on his record. 

Chaotic was a good way to describe the first week of George Washington's administration. Girls complained about boys 'accidentally' walking into the wrong dorms, teachers sent in objections to their larger class sizes, and the student body continued causing routine trouble. Before the first week was over, Washington realized Alexander Hamilton hadn't arrived at any of his classes. Only then did it occur to him that Hamilton had no transportation to college. 

Hamilton arrived well over a week late to his first year of college, to what Washington was sure looked like nothing less than pandemonium. He had sent Aaron Burr to meet the boy and give him a tour of the school. The headmaster's hope being that, even if he vehemently disliked the school, Burr wouldn't voice his opinion outright. 

Washington spent over half his time sending emails. The tedious activity seemed to eat up his time, and it wasn't one he was particularly good at. Although he was fairly good with words, they never seemed to come out right when writing. Even before the year had begun, Washington had written himself sick. His wife had called him to bed late at night after hours upon hours of writing emails that were never ready to be sent. One night he had gone to bed, a rather important email half written, and still illuminating his screen.

_Dear Mr. Alexander Hamilton,_

_I am overjoyed to hear you would consider attending our school. However, I do understand a few conditions that must be met on both our parts before you can be admitted. I have heard of your mother's condition, and I feel it is my responsibility to help ease your conscience, while also encouraging you to pursue an education. I will see to it personally that, as long as you are enrolled at King's College, your mother's hospital bills are paid for. Aside from this, I can offer you no additional aid to the full ride I am already offering. On your part it is first and foremost expected that you conduct yourself in a civilized manner. Your record with fights has not escaped my attention, but I hope that this great opportunity will inspire you to stay away from trouble. Your grades are required to stay stable above a C, though I cannot foresee you having any trouble with that. And lastly, though most definitely not required, I have a request of you._

The email went unfinished for a few more days while Washington settled affairs with people on the college board.

Now, even after the first week of term, the school wasn't as well held together as Washington would have liked. He needed aid, and he knew asking any one over his head would lead to more rumors about his already inept administration, and asking his staff members would only lead to more complaints. But, none of that mattered because he already had a plan and, although it was far from brilliant, it would have to do.

That was why, on the Saturday when Alexander Hamilton first arrived, after dropping his bags in his dorm, he was meant to report to Washington's office immediately.

"It's late." Washington said from his desk, not bothering to look up from the stacks of statistics he was reviewing. "You arrived hours ago and," George tried to keep his voice steady and stern as he talked to Alexander, and even though he succeeded, it wasn't easy. For the first time in years, despite the expenses of accommodating a whole new gender on campus, King's College had made a profit. Perhaps he wasn't as incapable as the board, and he himself, had assumed. "Aaron Burr sent in an email about an hour ago, admitting that he had failed to give you the whole tour."

"Oh?" Hamilton hadn't changed for his meeting with the headmaster. The young man stood, staring confidently at his superior without falter. His 'oh' had not been one of surprise, just curiosity.

"He apologized and left it at that." Washington explained, finally putting down the charts in front of him. He'd been looking at the papers for long enough that the small print had begun to swim and his eyes couldn't focus. "I couldn't help but wonder if someone other than him was to blame." He left it at that, giving the student in front of him to process his words. "Regardless, as you know, that is not what I called you here to discuss." He put the papers down with a little more finality, as if to punctuate his next point. "I'm drowning in papers, and over half my time is spent writing emails. This college needs strong, and quick leadership, and I can hardly keep up with the paperwork." Even though he had already explained many of these points to Hamilton in an earlier email, Washington had a speech prepared, and was ready to try and convince Alexander in any way it took. He needed assistance.

"Yes sir," apparently Hamilton had a different idea, though, "I already said I would work. It's the least I can do." _To repay you for covering the medical bills._ The words were so obvious that they seemed to hang in the air despite the fact that Hamilton hadn't said them. "When do I start? What do I do?"

Washington sat in pleasantly shocked silence for a moment. He couldn't sort out if he was surprised by Alexander's eagerness, or if he simply was stunned that his entire prepared speech had just gone out the window. He smiled. "As soon as possible. I'd like you to start with simply keeping track of my emails, and responding to as many as you can." Washington explained. "If there are any that you feel I must see myself, I can dictate responses for you."

Later, it became a common rumor that all the mirrors shattered in the bathroom down the hall that day, when Alexander Hamilton and George Washington shook hands. Of course, everyone in the entire school knew it was nothing more than a rumor because, if the mirrors _had_ shattered, they never would have been repaired. But, the sentiment wasn't lost, Hamilton and Washington were a formidable pair. And, some people argued, the example of shattering mirrors wasn't a good one, as it had the connotation of bad luck and nothing as good as Washington, whom never would have been able to do all he had without Hamilton, had ever happened to King's College.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...  
> Washington won't get many of his own chapters, and I'm not going to lie, his are going to be slower than all the others. But, they do give me a medium to kind of explain what's going on in the bigger picture involving the college, and draw parallels (even if they are super loose parallels) to the revolutionary war, and early American politics. So, thank you for your patience while I try to get everything set up well enough to get into the fun (gay) stuff. Hope you're enjoying, and feedback is always appreciated!


	3. Jefferson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To Thomas Jefferson, there is nothing more important than his reputation. So, when he sets off to greet Alexander Hamilton and meets probably the most skilled person in ruining exactly that, reputations, it's only natural that they don't see eye to eye.

Thomas Jefferson was popular before the first week of college was over. He was a new pledge of the biggest and, undeniably, best fraternity on campus, Sigma Pi. Even within the colossal of a fraternity, even as a freshman, he was well known. This was why he was asked to introduce the fraternity to the newest student of King's: Alexander Hamilton. Sigma Pi liked to brag about their intelligent members, so it was no surprise that they fought ruthlessly for the new full ride students. They hadn't had much convincing to do with Thomas, he liked the sound of being a part of the most popular group on campus, and being in a fraternity seemed nearly as important as the education he was getting. It was all about the experience, after all, right? He participated in rush, even though he needed little to no convincing to join Sigma Pi. He had been among the first students to be pledged.

Now, nearly a week later, he was on a mission from the Sig Pi president himself. To recruit Alexander Hamilton.

"It shouldn't be hard." He explained arrogantly to his best friend, as they exited their Intro to Lit class. "Even if Sigma Pi isn't enough to convince him all by itself, we have me." He said the final part as if it warranted no explanation, as if his very presence made anything a guaranteed success. 

"Good point." James Madison said in his usual monotonous tone. He was nearly a foot shorter than Thomas, but that actually wasn't say all that much. Thomas stood at a few inches above six feet, and towered over most of the freshman class. Madison had a shorter, stockier build that gave him the same over all feel as a teddy bear. The two seemed to be mirror opposites in everything they did and, some people speculated, that was why they got along so well. Thomas hated to fight for the spotlight, and James hated having it on him. He had no problem with being Thomas's supporting man, and Thomas had no problem _having_ a supporting man.

Thomas was a self described brilliant, promising student. He was charismatic, clever and ambitious. And so what if every once in a while he liked to treat himself? But, this was according to himself. Others, particularly those who dislike him, had a very different notion on how to describe Thomas Jefferson. He was self absorbed and arrogant, and some even went as far as to say elitist. He had an off putting obsession with France, and almost everyone, even his close friends, could agree that he was self-indulgent. The biggest debate, however, was over what noun best encompassed Thomas. Some thought that brat was good enough, others argued that Francophile was most fitting, but most people had settled on a ruder way of summing him up. Douche tended to be the word of choice for people like this. 

"He should be in our next class." Thomas went on. He wasn't nervous, he just talked a lot, all the time. "He's majoring in Political Sciences, and I've heard that's not all." Although he hadn't heard what else. No one had bothered to tell him, and he supposed it was because it wasn't important. Most of the scholarship kids were double majoring, anyway. 

Madison, who was already deeply engrossed in the textbook from his previous class, only let out a small "Hm," to indicate that he was even listening at all. He had a certain skill for reading and walking at the same time, and Thomas was constantly telling him to stop, and watch were he was going. 

"Dude, chill out on the reading," Thomas would chide his friend. "One day you're going to trip over someone." But, Madison rarely paid his friend any mind, mostly because he knew the real reason Jefferson hated his reading was that it distracted him from listening to Thomas's constant conversation.

Thomas checked his watch as they approached their next class. "You should go in, Mads, save me a seat. Imma wait out here."

James looked up from his book, just to check that Thomas really wanted to do this without him, and when he received a reassuring nod, let his focus fall back to the pages, and headed into the classroom. Thomas wouldn't have minded James's company, but he knew that, while he never would have admitted it, James wouldn't care to play meeting committee. James had a quiet disposition, and Thomas suspected that he was- desperate wasn't quite the right word- eager to have Thomas as a friend. He knew for a fact that Madison's loyalty was sound, and he wouldn't have complained for a second about anything that Thomas asked him to do. It was a strange kind of certainty, and it was much easier to ignore. It didn't make sense to make such assumptions about a friend he'd only had for a week, but it was such a solid hunch, trusting Mads wholeheartedly was already practically second nature to Thomas.

He was so caught up in his thoughts he almost missed who he was waiting for. But, in addition to that, Alexander Hamilton was not what Thomas had been expecting. He was scrawny, with barely kept hair, and a I heart NYC shirt that couldn't have been larger than a small, and still seemed altogether too large for him. Breaking from his train of thought, Thomas stared at the other boy for a moment, just blinking and trying to gather his thoughts. In a similar fashion to Madison, Alexander did not watch where he was walking, he was too busy typing away furiously on a laptop that he held in his hand that wasn't flying across the keys. But, in contrast to James, his mouth seemed to be moving without pause for breaths.

He was walking next to two people, one of which Thomas immediately recognized. John Laurens. 

This was _not_ how this was supposed to go. Alexander Hamilton was supposed to be a brilliant, but close to friendless guy, who was hungry for popularity. But no. As if the obvious lack of effort he put towards his appearance wasn't enough of a slap in the face, although Thomas had to admit he wore the whole "messy genius" look well, he was already friends with John Laurens.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Thomas interjected in the middle of one of Alexander's sentences. He wasn't sorry. He smirked at John to make sure the other boy knew that was the case. "You wouldn't happen to be Alexander Hamilton, would you?"

"You wouldn't happen to be the school's biggest douche, would you?" John spat back before Alexander could even open his mouth to respond. Thomas gave him a condescending look and took a moment to think up a response. "Trust me, the answer is yes," John whispered to Alexander, just loud enough so that Thomas could hear him. "Let's just go." 

Alexander wasn't going to say no to John, that much was evident. Thomas let out a short laugh to win back his attention. 

"You're not really hanging out with _that_ no account?" Alexander now lowered his laptop so he could get a better look at Thomas. And Thomas knew that's all he needs, his attention. He wasn't kidding when he was talking to James earlier, his charm was enough to get Alexander to join Sig Pi. "I hear even his parents don't want him around."

Laurens's face dropped into a slack expression of anger and horror. He looks like he's just been punched in the gut. Thomas smiled. 

But, Alexander tensed. He didn't even have to begin speaking before Thomas realized he'd made a mistake.

"Oh really?" Alexander began, his face melting into an enraged scowl. It seems natural, almost like it belongs that way. "I'm surprised you could hear anything at all, with your head as far up your ass as it is." He spat effortlessly, like he barely even had to think of the retort. Thomas can feel that he, too, is now scowling. "Listen, I don't know who you are, or who you _think_ you are, but if you _ever_ , and I mean ever, speak about my friends like that again, I swear to god I'll-"

Alexander's second friend, the one whose name Thomas couldn't quite place, quiets him with a hand on his shoulder. "Alexander, let's go. He's not worth it." 

And just like that they've disappeared into the lecture room. And just like that Alexander has caused Thomas what he's sure will be an incredibly embarrassing loss that he'll have to explain to the president of Sigma Pi.

Just like that, Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson are enemies.


	4. Hamilton

Alexander left Hercules to explain to Lafayette what happened outside of Political Theory. Alex is the one, after quite a bit of pestering, to finally cave and agree to comfort John. The other boys seem skittish when Alexander tries to ask why Jefferson said what he did and what it meant. He is fully cognizant of the fact that the most probable reason _he_ is willing to comfort John, and not the others, is because he doesn't quite understand the full implications of Jefferson's insult. He knocks on the door to John's dorm, and after a minute of standing in front of the door with no answer, he lets himself in anyway. As the door closes behind him, the sound of Hercules excitedly rehearsing Alexander's speech to Jefferson fades along with the light from the hallway.

The tension in John's room is enough on its own to make Alexander want to leave. It occurred to Alex all too late that he isn't even entirely sure what Jefferson had been alluding to in his insult, and that he is not nearly good enough friends with John to be the one to comfort him. He makes himself a promise that, when he gets out of this, he is going to kill at least Hercules. John is on his bed, his back turned to the door. Surprisingly, he is the first to speak.

"Hey." John doesn't turn around, and Alexander is perfectly aware that he can't seem him, but an uneasy sense of self consciousness settles over him anyway. Suddenly, he realizes he has no idea what to do with his hands, and stuffs one of them in his pocket to try to assuage his nerves. 

"Hey." But, now that the silence has been broken Alexander can't go back. He keeps talking, if only to keep himself from suffocating in the quiet tension. "Thomas Jefferson was a real fucking jerk. I mean, he seemed like a complete dumbass anyway, so it doesn't really matter what he thinks. He's probably totally full of himself and-and-"

John silences Alexander with a single movement. He turns, and pats the bed next to him, inviting Alex to sit next him. In the dark, even as he gets closer, Alexander can't tell if John has been crying or not. Alexander wishes the lights were on, not because he wants to know if John has been crying, but because his heart is beating so hard it's giving him a headache. He knows the headache isn't the real issue.

He eases himself onto the bed next to John slowly, as if to not disturb the uneasy silence. 

"Thank you," John says, and now Alexander knows that he has been crying. His voice is stuffy and muffled, and he doesn't make eye contact, instead John stares stubbornly at the ground while offering his thanks. Alex's stomach bunches up unexpectedly. 

"It was no big deal." He shrugged, trying to contain himself, from what he's not sure. Everything feels off, like its all moving too slow, or maybe too fast. _He's only known John for three days,_ he reminds himself desperately. "He had it coming to him."

They sit like that, mostly in silence, for hours. Alexander knows that he will probably get weird looks when he leaves later, but he also knows that John needs him here. Even when he's not saying anything, John seems to get less solemn with each second that they sit side by side. It also occurs to Alexander, at some time near 11 o'clock, that John's roommate hasn't come to the dorm. He waits an hour before he mentions it.

"I was never assigned a roommate." John says like it was a great stroke of luck. He sounds less stuffy now, and Alex wonders if he got out all of his tears, or if he's holding them in for Alexander's sake. He hopes it's not the latter.

"I'm staying with Aaron Burr." Alexander doesn't put too much emotion into the statement. He's not sure whether or not he dislikes Burr yet, there was a good chance it wasn't his fault he was a bore. 

"You could stay here tonight." John blurts. Alexander feels blood rushing to his face, and he's finally thankful that the lights aren't on. He gets the impression that John didn't think before he'd said it, and Alex wonders if he's blushing, too. They sit without a word between them for long enough that John tries to retract his offer, "I mean, it'd be perfectly understandable if you don't want to. In fact-"

"That'd be nice." Alexander doesn't dare look up when he says it, but he doesn't fail to notice that John relapses into silence.

Alexander is proven right. The next morning, Hercules and Lafayette don't let the fact that Alexander spent the night in John's room go. It's obvious that John feels a lot better, because even he joins in on the taunts. 

"So, what did you two get up to last night?" Hercules asks suggestively while Lafayette makes kissing faces behind him. Alexander reminds himself of his earlier promise to kill Hercules. It's starting to sound better and better.

"All types of things," John responds confidently, "right, Alex?" 

Alexander becomes acutely aware that he can't breathe. 

The four friends are walking along the courtyard, it's a beautiful Tuesday morning. The magnolia trees have begun to turn scarlet as fall rolls in. When Alexander doesn't answer the other boys let out a low chorus of 'oooh's, but otherwise drop the subject.

"What class are you going to?" Herc asks Lafayette, and suddenly Alexander can breathe again.

"Fundamentals of Digital Photography." Laf does not sound excited, but when Hercules makes a grossed out sound, he jumps to his class's defense. "Hey, at least it's better than Law and Ethics for Photojournalists. What are you taking, Mr. Political Science?"

Hercules laughed, "Everyone else here is Mr. Political Science," he points out. "Face it, you chose the wrong major." But, before they can get into an argument about whether photojournalism is a real major, a debate Alex had heard break out at least four times over the past three days, Hercules moves on. "I've got Comparative Government and Politics with John."

"And what about you, Alexander?" Lafayette sidles over to Alex, and slings his arm around the other boy's shoulder. Alexander rolls his eyes at Lafayette's usual dramatics.

"Well, first off, I have to go get on some clean clothes," He says with a quick nervous laugh. John had offered him a change of clothes, but Alexander didn't want to deal with more teasing, and had declined the offer. "Then I'm going to Introduction to Justice Research, Writing, and Reasoning."

"That's not political science." Hercules points out as more of a question as to what it is. 

"It's not," Alexander answers, finally slinging his arm over Lafayette's shoulders in return. Now the two boys were walking, both with a arm draped over the others' shoulders. "It's law studies."

"How many majors do you _have_?" Lafayette asks, as if a double major is the craziest thing he's ever heard of. Alexander smirks, if that's what his friend thinks is crazy, then he's about to blow his mind.

"Three," he says it as if it's not a big deal, but he knows it is. He waits patiently until his friends exclamations of disbelief drop off. "Political science, law studies, and finance."

The rest of the walk was spent with the four of them stuck in a hearty debate as to whether taking three majors was even humanly possible. Eventually, after Lafayette had made the ("incredibly compelling," in the words of Hercules) point that, perhaps, Alexander wasn't human at all, they all had to part ways. Alexander made his trek to his dorm on his own, finally having a moment of peace to concentrate on exactly _what_ was wrong with him. However, that didn't last.

When Alexander reached his dorm, he was met with a terrifying sight. Aaron Burr, completely exhausted and possibly sleeping while standing, waiting outside the door. Either he was asleep while standing as straight as a board, or simply zoned out, but as soon as Alexander moved at the end of the hallway he snapped back to attention.

"Where _were_ you?" He exclaimed, after taking a drowsy second to recognize who Alex was. He stumbled from his post in front of their dorm door, and rushed toward Alexander, death in his eyes. For a moment, Alex seriously feared Aaron Burr would kill him then and there. "I stayed up all night waiting for you, and I nearly panicked and called the police when you didn't show!" Burr's voice cracked, whether it was because of exhaustion or exasperation was hard to tell.

"I'm sorry, I-" Alexander began, but to no avail. Burr was not giving him the luxury of excuses. Or even an explanation.

"You're sorry? _You're sorry?_ I have classes today, and how am I going to concentrate with practically no sleep? I can't afford..." Alexander stopped paying attention. He didn't think he would have been allowed to, but he considers pointing out that it's only the second week of the semester, and nothing of consequence is even being taught yet. He decides better. He's never seen Burr open his mouth for more than a few words at a time, seeing him this livid is scary.

"We're going to be late." Alexander settles on saying, instead. Burr's words stop, and his face turns to sheer horror. "I have to get changed," Alexander explains before pushing past his roommate. "But, I'll see you in class."

Then, before Burr can stop him, he slips inside their dorm. He pulls on the first shirt he gets his hands on, a wrinkled graphic tee that reads, _Bi the way,_. Then desperately tugs a pair of black skinny jeans on and, after swiping his laptop and textbook, charges out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...  
> Time to meet Angelica Schuyler! But, you didn't hear that from me. Anyway, I don't know that I'm a huge fan of this chapter, but I legit wrote it out like five times before I finally gave up and just stuck with this as the final draft, so I hope you guys like it! Thanks for reading!


	5. A. Schuyler

Introduction to Justice Research, Writing and Reasoning was not the most interesting course Angelica Schuyler was taking. First of all, paperwork and oral presentations were not what had enchanted her to take law studies. Secondly, the teacher was awful. And, lastly, it was a freshman class, and she was less than thrilled to share a class filled with first year students. That was one of the detriments of her father's sudden, brilliant decision to transfer her to King's College for sophomore year. A decision Angelica still wasn't sure had a silver lining.

Her younger sister, Eliza, was much more optimistic. It was easy for her, though, because she was just starting her college career and hadn't had to deal with the train wreck that was transferring schools. Luckily, Angelica hadn't had to drop any of her courses of study and, possibly because it was the only thing that hadn't changed, had started to bury herself in school work. The past week had been a blur of homework, and Eliza begging her to come with her to a party or two. Thus far, Angelica had turned her down every time. It wasn't that she wasn't sociable, but more that she was still so frustrated with her situation that she didn't actually want it to get better yet.

The professor had just begun his lecture, which would be detailing how to correctly cite sources during a speech, when someone burst in late. He was short, and nursing a huge thermos of what Angelica assumed to be coffee. He looked frantic, and murmured a long string of apologies before sitting in the back of the room. Just as the professor resumed his lesson, the door slammed open again. This time, the professor didn't even stop to look at the new arrival. Angelica, however, couldn't contain her curiosity, and turned to see the second latecomer. 

He was attractive. For no reason in particular that Angelica could think of. He was entirely out of breath, and collapsed into the chair next to the boy who had come in only a few minutes earlier. The first boy, with the coffee, shot the other a reproachful glare, then returned his attention to the lesson. The other didn't seem to mind, and pulled out a laptop that looked at least five years old. Angelica didn't realize she had been staring until the boy's eyes met hers. She panicked and turned to face the professor. 

The rest of the class drug by. All the while, the back of Angelica's neck prickled, with curiosity or embarrassment she wasn't sure. She just couldn't help but wonder if he was looking at her, just like she wanted to turn and look at him. It was strange, she couldn't quite explain why, but she felt as if her eyes might rip themselves from their sockets in an attempt to catch another glimpse of the boy behind her. 

When the professor dismissed class, she saw, much to her horror, that the boy was waiting outside of the class. _Was he waiting for her?_ She chastised herself for even thinking it. Even if he was waiting for her, she had more pride than to be diminished to a nervous wreck by one boy. She refused to be so cliche. Still, she nervously tugged on the hem of her blazer before grabbing her things and heading for the door. 

The noise of the hallway hit her full on as she left the classroom, but she can't help but pick out a certain conversation.

"I _know_ our next class in five minutes," the two boys are still hanging out with each other. "I just have something I want to do real quick."

"You want to talk to that girl." The other boy, who had his hand tightly gripping his friend's arm, admonishes. "Do you even know who she is?"

"I will if you let me talk to her, Burr." He shook off his friend, Burr, and left him behind without another word. Angelica watched as the boy approached her, and Burr stormed off, presumably to his next class. Now that she had heard his name, she knew who the boy was, Burr was another one of the students Washington had contacted directly while recruiting for admissions. Other than that, she had to admit, she knew next to nothing about him. 

"You looked pretty bored in there." The other boy was smiling up at her, she's a little taller than him with her heeled combat boots on.

"Who doesn't already know how to cite sources in front of a jury?" She responded, trying to sound like she was still bored, but it's hard not to stare at the boy in front of her. He had a kind of passion and mischief in his eyes that makes him infinitely more captivating up close.

"I'm Alexander Hamilton." He held out his hand to shake, and Angelica raises an eyebrow. Now she knows who he is. From a poor part of Harlem, triple majoring, and already working directly under Washington, Alexander Hamilton was the talk of the scholarship students.

"Angelica Schuyler," She introduced herself, taking his hand. She was sure she'd never seen someone smile so genuinely wide.

"I have to get to class." Alexander let out a rueful laugh. "But, uh, hopefully I'll see you around."

Before she could really think, Angelica was inviting Alexander to Carpenter's Hall, a club located a mile down the road from campus. It was a frequent hangout for college kids, in fact, it was practically the college's club. It was the place many of the parties she had refused to go to with Eliza had been. Angelica had no idea what was possessing her.

"Do you go to Carpenter's Hall? Maybe we could meet up Friday." Alexander's eyes lit up, and,in that moment, Angelica was completely convinced that this was all worth it.

"I just got here three or four days ago," he answered, his words almost coming out as one blurred string of syllables because of how fast he was talking. "But I've heard my friends talking about it. I'll be sure to be there." 

Before Angelica could say anything else, before she could retract her invitation, or thank him for accepting, or even set up a time, he bounded off towards his next class. Alexander's energy was endearingly contagious, and despite herself, Angelica smiled all the way to her next class.

It wasn't until later that night, when she returned to her dorm, that she really thought about her plans again. She shared a room with her sister, even though Eliza was a freshman, and shouldn't have been staying in the sophomore dorms. Their father's monetary donations to the school sometimes got them uncomfortable amounts of special treatment. They doubted it was even Washington's fault, it was probably all due to their father's requests, and occasional demands. Anything for his little girls. 

"You're smiling," was the first thing Eliza said to Angelica when she arrived back in the dorm. She came in a few hours after Angelica, as her classes went a bit later on Tuesdays. Music theory is brutal, they would joke some nights.

"Am I not allowed to smile, now?" Angelica knew that denying it would only get her in deeper trouble, and she couldn't seem to stop. 

"Sure you are, but that's a 'I just met a guy' smile." Eliza said with her eyebrows wiggling.

"Hey," Angelica interjects, her tone strict. It seems she was constantly correcting Eliza in this and, although she knew Eliza didn't mind, it felt like she was being picky.

"Okay, fine," Eliza rolled her eyes playfully, and dropped her weight onto her bed across from Angelica's. "A 'I just met a guy _or_ girl' smile." 

"Maybe I did. It doesn't really mean anything. I mean, we're just hanging out at Carpenter's Hall this Friday. I think he's bringing his friends, and it'd be no big deal if you came-" Angelica couldn't stop herself from talking.

"You said you didn't want to go to Carpenter's Hall just last Saturday." Eliza cut her off. Angelica couldn't come up with a witty response, so she stayed quiet. When Angelica doesn't respond, Eliza added, "But yeah, I'll definitely come with you, Sis," obviously afraid that she had actually made Angelica mad.

Angelica gave her sister a huge smile. "Thanks, you're the best, Liza." 

"I know." Eliza responded with a small, smug smile.

And, as Angelica fell asleep, she kept smiling. Maybe today she had found her silver lining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...  
> So, who's up for a club nerdily named for the building where the first Continental Congress was held? I would have named it after the meeting place of the Constitutional Convention, but State House didn't really sound like a good club to me, so Carpenter's Hall will have to do. Sorry for the shorter chapter, but it was mostly to set up for the whole Eliza, Angelica, Alexander mess. I'm thinking about a Burr chapter up next. I hope you're enjoying everything so far, and thanks for reading!


	6. Burr

Aaron Burr was brilliant. And, not many people knew it. Aaron was more than pleased that this was this case, he worked hard to preserve an illusion of normalcy. For instance, he had known that any law school would already easily accept his application, so he decided to take only one major in college. His roommate, Alexander Hamilton, practically despised him for it. But, Burr was sure there were already many things Alexander disliked him for. He suspected Alexander thought he was a bore and, aside from that, a spineless fake. The two had first met when Burr had been asked to give the other boy a tour of campus. Burr had barely gotten a word in on the tour, a slight problem, considering he was supposed to be the guide. Unlike most people, Alexander had known about Burr's early graduation. Unlike other people, Alexander seemed to not only be in awe of this accomplishment, but be inspired by it. Burr hated to admit that he found it flattering. Only a few minutes into their tour, Alexander had slipped away with John Laurens and his friends.

Burr was thankful that Alexander was his roommate, at first. He had known that he couldn't hope to compete with John, Hercules, and Lafayette for Alexander's friendship, he just wasn't as interesting or fun as them. So, as selfish as it might have been, he was secretly overjoyed that Alexander would have to spend at least some time with him. He wasn't entirely sure _why_ he wanted to be friends with Alexander so bad, but he supposed it hardly mattered.

However, it only took a few days for Burr to learn that Alexander might have been far more trouble than he was worth. He should have guessed as much the very moment Alexander hit it off so well with John Laurens. It wasn't that Burr dislike John, he just knew how much of a troublemaker he was, knew how _loud_ he was. Alexander proved to be the same exact way.

"You were late to three out of seven of your classes today!" Aaron was yelling at his preoccupied roommate. "You can't expect to triple major, and be late to every single class!"

"You just said it yourself," Alexander replied without stopping his hands, which were briskly moving across his laptop's keyboard. Even as he made confident eye contact with Burr, his hands moved as if possessed by a completely different being. "I only missed three out of seven, that's less than half."

Burr rolled his eyes. He was so tired after waiting up for Alexander that he couldn't organize his arguments well enough to argue. "I'm going to bed." He finally declared, after taking a moment to break himself away from the spectacle that was Alexander's self-moving hands. After a quick shower and changing into his pajamas, Burr fell asleep to the _tic tac, tic tac_ of Alexander's tireless work. It was a lullaby he was already starting to become accustomed to it.

Alexander was awake before Burr the next morning, and Burr found himself wondering if the other boy had slept at all. But, sleepless or not, Alexander had plenty of energy. He had already visited the mess hall and, even though it was against the rules, Alexander had brought back food for Burr. When Aaron woke up, Alexander was sitting on his own bed, impatiently popping a pen cap on and off with one hand, and holding a blueberry muffin in the other, watching Burr. He left out a sigh of relief when Burr began to stir.

"Thank god," he breathed, jumping from his bed, and holding out the muffin to a still bleary eyed Burr. "I've been awake for hours, and I didn't know what to get you for breakfast because you always get something different, but I decided that there's not a person on earth who doesn't like blueberry muffins, so I grabbed one for you."

It was too early for this. Aaron blinked his eyes several times, not quite able to process the offering of the blueberry muffin. He checked his alarm clock to see that the red numbers read 5:42. How early had Alexander woken up?

"My first class isn't until eleven." Burr mumbled before burying his face in his pillow. He heard Alexander let out a disappointed noise.

"So?" Burr was beginning to like the idea of getting rid of Hamilton. No matter what it took. "There are muffins now."

"I don't care," Burr's words were muffled by his pillow. His humid breath made it hard to breathe up against the pillow, and he was forced to turn his head for air. He looked up at Alexander, who was still holding out the muffin. "Let me sleep."

"Everyone else is asleep." Alexander frowned, obviously deeply troubled by this fact. Burr was tempted to point out that this was because everyone else was _sane_. "I wanted to catch the sunrise with someone, and John'll kill me if I wake him up this early."

"That's still an hour away." Burr responded, feeling heat rise in his cheeks at the very idea of watching the sunrise with Alexander Hamilton.

"It's forty minutes or so." Alexander corrected without thought. "And you can't miss any of it." Alexander's eyes were fixed on the ground, he actually seemed bashful.

Burr let out a long, exasperated sigh. "Fine," his tone was resigned, "a muffin, and a sunrise. Then, I'm going back to bed."

Alexander beamed uncontrollably as Aaron ate the muffin. It was good, and Burr suspected that Alexander's earlier statement had been correct; no one on earth disliked blueberry muffins. Around six, Alexander began to grow exceedingly antsy, bouncing his leg up and down, and eventually picking up his pen and popping the cap again. At first, Burr tried to ignore it but, as he stood up to shove on clothes, he couldn't take Alexander's fidgeting.

"We're not going to miss it." He said over his shoulder as he pulled an old pair of jeans.

Alexander muttered something along the lines of, "At the pace you're going..." under his breath, but Burr pretended to not have heard. It was too early in the morning to argue with Hamilton. 

Alexander didn't stop fidgeting until they reached the spot that he had deemed appropriate for watching the sun rise. The place he had decided on was a small area of the campus gardens, it was surrounded by, currently bare, rose bushes, with the east side completely clear. There was a large tree in the center of the clearing, an oak if Burr wasn't mistaken, from which a swing hung. It was perfect.

A few ahead of Burr, Alexander sat on the swing and let it rock a few times before saying anything. When he did speak, his words were quiet and serene. "I come here every morning." He admitted. "I used to watch the sunrise every morning with my mom."

Burr furrowed his eyebrows, and didn't dare respond. He didn't know about Alexander's life before a few days ago, and he was suddenly horrified he would say something wrong. Part of him wondered if he would have had sentimental traditions, had his mother lived for him to be old enough to remember her.

That was the last exchange of words between the two until the sun was a good distance above the horizon and Burr excused himself. Both boys enjoyed the silence, something Burr hadn't been aware that Alexander was capable of. The sunrise hadn't been phenomenal, there were no sparks between the boys, it was just a tranquil morning, with a great view. 

And, for the time being, Aaron was fine with that.


	7. Madison

Thomas was fuming. It was nothing new, and James didn't think to give it any extra attention. He sat on the his bed, which was raised to make room for the head of Thomas’s and a small space for a desk and monitor. It was already tradition to play Xbox late into the night on that particular monitor. James was currently reading and annotating an extensive collection of historical documents detailing the purpose and duties of federal government, a bit of light reading, he liked to joke with Thomas, and didn't look up when his roommate stormed into their shared dorm. 

“ _Triple majoring_?” Thomas exclaimed in aggravated exasperation as he threw his things down on his bed. “No one even told me that was an option!”

James ignored his friend’s tantrum and continued reading. He only had a page and a half until the end of the section and he wasn't about to get distracted by Thomas's theatrics.

“James, can you believe Alexander Hamilton is triple majoring?” Thomas exploded after only a moment of attempted respectful silence. James, only a page away from his goal let out a long sigh. He made a strategic decision to avoid mentioning that not only could he believe Hamilton was triple majoring, he had known. It surprised him Thomas hadn't heard about it before this instance. 

“Really?” James put down his book and got ready for the storm that was coming. 

“Yeah! Jay told me!” Thomas fumed, clambering onto James’s bed without pausing his rant to ask permission. “I marched down to Washington's office myself. I demanded an extra major. I don't care what it does to my schedule, I'm not letting myself be out done by that- by that-”

James cut his friend off calmly before the obscenities began to fly. “Do even have an idea of what major you would take?”

Thomas sat a moment, shocked into silence. James was learning how to do that more effectively everyday. His quiet, but sharp wit seemed to do the trick. He suspected that Thomas sometimes forgot how smart James was. 

“Well, no.” Thomas eventually responded, his tone sheepish. “But I don't see why that matters. I think Washington is playing favorites.” His accusation was simple, not necessarily angry, just a statement of fact. 

“Hamilton _does_ work for him.” James pointed out diplomatically. He made the, admittedly very safe, assumption that Washington had turned down Thomas’s request for a third major. 

“Then I'll work for him, too.” Thomas declared without a second’s thought. “Hamilton takes care of the technical things, so I'll work with relations. Teachers and students, I can be their voice.” It was obvious Thomas was coming up with this on the spot, but James had to admit, it didn't sound like a horrible plan. He hoped, however, the end game wasn't to get in an extra major. 

Hopefully it would help sate this crazy obsession Thomas had developed with Hamilton. Anything Hamilton did was to spite Thomas, and everything Thomas did was to best him. Sometimes James wondered if Hamilton even realized that he had made himself an enemy. James had long become resolved to ask Hamilton exactly that the first time he had the chance and, perhaps, warn him as well. He wasn't sure that Hamilton deserved as much of Thomas’s wrath as he was undoubtedly going to receive. 

“I just have to convince Washington. And, I mean, God knows the man needs all the help he can get.” Thomas was wrapping up the explanation of his plot for power, and a chance at a cheap shot at Hamilton. James tuned back in just for the end of it. He tried to be a good listener, and succeeded for the most part, but it was hard sometimes, especially as Thomas talked an ungodly amount. 

“But not now.” James said simply. It was almost a question, but there was a reasonable amount of authority in his voice. It was nine o'clock on a Wednesday, after all. He was certain that the last thing the headmaster needed was Thomas Jefferson kicking down his door with ‘an offer he couldn't refuse’.

Thomas opened his mouth to protest, but apparently thought better of it. Despite that James didn't talk much, it was hard to win a debate against his steadfast logic. 

“For tonight,” he suggested, “we can go get some dinner or something.” 

Thomas smiled, “Ok, sounds good.” 

James had to hold in a breath of relief. The least he could do was save Washington from a light night rebuking from Thomas. Thomas barely used the ladder to get down from James’s bed, excitedly throwing on his coat. 

James moved slower, methodically taking the ladder down. He took his time, mourning his unfinished reading, and deciding to save it for the next day. If Jefferson’s plan could wait, so could his reading, he supposed. 

Thomas practically dragged James to the nearest campus restaurant, which just so happened to be an Italian place. For being a self proclaimed ‘Southern soul’ Thomas seemed to have trouble grasping the South’s famous slow pace. James, a Virginian himself, greatly enjoyed that speed and had missed it when he came to New York for college. He had had a glimmer of hope after learning his roommate was a fellow Virginian, but no cigar. 

“They don't have macaroni and cheese here.” Thomas pouted, as they sat at one of the empty tables in the restaurant. James didn't stop him to ask why he already knew that. He had seen his friend’s stash of Kraft Mac and Cheese, and he was sure there had never been a stronger visual to emphasize someone’s love. 

Once they were settled and had ordered James sat patiently and listened to everything Thomas had to say. Despite his earlier complaints about cheap, American food, Thomas had ordered the most expensive, authentic dish on the menu. 

It was beyond James how any man managed to make so many peculiarities seem cute. He doubted he'd ever be able to fully comprehend Thomas. 

“And of course I was right,” Thomas said, going on three minutes of talking without stopping for air. “But, I think the professor didn't want to admit it in front of the class.” He stopped for a moment, giving James a thoughtful stare. “How was your day?” 

Thomas took a long sip of his Italian soda, and James had to put a considerable amount of effort into not showing his surprise. It wasn't that Thomas was inconsiderate, be just tended to get wrapped up in himself. James hardly cared, he hated having the focus on himself, but the moment of thoughtfulness did not go unappreciated. 

“It was okay.” He responded in contrast to Thomas’s lengthy summary. 

Thomas narrowed his eyes. “What happened?” He asked conversationally, but it became clear, after a few short answers from James, that Thomas had taken his vagueness as a challenge. 

Eventually, James gave in. He explained how exhausting his classes had been, and even went into detail about his reading, explaining how interesting the insight on government was. He was interrupted by the waiter bringing their food. And, thankful for the excuse, he stopped himself. 

After a few minutes of silent eating, James let out a nervous laugh. “I must've bored you to death.” 

“No,” was all the response he received. But, it sounded fairly genuine. 

They didn't return to their dorm, in the Sigma Pi house, until well after ten. James excused himself to bed immediately, the effects of the extensive conversation already taking hold. He was exhausted. He climbed into bed after changing and brushing his teeth, and after a while he heard his roommate whisper his name from below him. 

“James? Are you still awake?” Thomas’s voice floated upwards. 

“Yes.” James answered in a whisper for no reason that he could think of. It just felt right. 

“Thank you.” If James wasn't mistaken, Thomas’s voice sounded _shy_ , almost. James had no idea exactly what he was being thanked for, but he decided it was better to accept Thomas’s gratitude than question it. 

After that, the room fell into silence. Sleep came easily enough to James, a small smile etched on his features, for no good reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...  
> This is pretty much just to establish Madison and Jefferson's relationship and give you a more human look at Jefferson. Anyway, my posts might be a bit few and far between for a bit, but I'll try to keep it as consistent as possible. Also, I'd like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who leaves comments and stuff, y'all are my reason for writing so often, and every compliment means a lot. So thank you so much for that. And as always, thank for reading, and I hope you're enjoying!


	8. Laurens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I guess I should warn y'all that there's alcohol in this chapter. Um, also, it's hella long. Like, double how long all the other chapters are. Think of it as pay back for the long wait. I had really hard time getting up started, but once I did, I just couldn't stop. Hope you like it!

It was decided. He was going to go crazy. Despite this being the first instance of feeling this way, John Laurens would become thoroughly acquainted with the notion of his sanity slipping by the end of the night. It was Friday, and almost time to go to Carpenter's Hall. Dangerously close to time. He sat, fidgeting nervously on his bed, his eyes fixed stubbornly on his alarm clock, which read 7:53. 

Seven more minutes. Then he could start walking to where he would meet up with Alex, Lafayette and Hercules. Then, he would be comfortably late, he could pass it off as if it were no big deal, and then they would begin their night. 

He stood, and took his hair down, and then put it back up for the millionth time. He had been out his classes since four and hadn't stopped moving, twitching, and worrying since. He had changed outfits three times, trying to settle on a comfortable spot on the scale of ‘how hard I tried.’ He eventually settled on a Front Bottoms t-shirt with a blazer over it. For once, he was wearing jeans and not his usual joggers. 

He frowned at his reflection for a moment, tucked a stray hair back into his ponytail, and then made his way to the door. The dorms were quiet, as was to be expected on a Friday night, and John only ran into one other person on his way out. He nodded his head courteously before skirting around the other boy without a word. He wasn't nearly as outgoing as he made himself out to be. Although he was good with people, he wasn't a big fan of randomly striking up conversations, especially not when he was as on edge as he was. 

As the fresh air of the outdoors hit him, he allowed himself a brief moment to dwell on why he was so knotted up inside. He had spent hours sitting on his bed, at night, next to Alexander Hamilton. Just being close to him had made John feel his pain go away in a way it never did. And now, less than a week later, he was going to Carpenter’s Hall, on Alexander's invitation, to meet with the Schuyler sisters. The most desirable girls on campus. Not that he was jealous, and he was, he told himself, most definitely not concerned about where Alexander’s romantic interests laid. He was nervous about meeting the sisters. Except he knew for a fact that wasn't the case. He knew, without even meeting the sisters, that he wasn't interested. So, he told himself, after long deliberation on what he was so damn nervous about, that he was afraid he would run into Jefferson. 

It was a weak excuse, but all he had to do was fool himself. And, considering that he was desperate for any type of explanation, that wasn't hard. 

He arrived at the picnic table at 8:04. Alexander jumped from the table, itching to get going. He was wearing a faded Tupac tee, and a huge smile. 

“Took you long enough,” Laf was the first to speak up as John drew closer. 

“Alex was going stir crazy.” Herc said with a laugh as Alex, now standing, continued to bounce on the balls of his feet impatiently. 

“Sorry, I lost track if the time,” John excused himself nonchalantly. He was lying. No one knew that, though, and Lafayette let out a groan that seemed to say, ‘ugh, typical’.

Hercules rolled his eyes, whether the gesture was directed at Laf or John was hard to tell. “First order of business, before we can do anything else,” Herc began before Lafayette let out another groan.

“You're such a mom friend.” He mumbled under his breath playfully. Hercules didn't dignify his comment with any sort of recognition. 

“Who’s the designated driver?” He asked, in all seriousness. They all knew they'd be walking down to Carpenter’s Hall, but Hercules always insists that one of them stay sober. When no one stepped forward, he continued. “I did it last time, and there is no way in hell I'm doing that two times in a row.”

“Fine,” John was the one to say something. He remembered the terrible hangover that followed their last night out, and a large portion of him just wanted this night to pass and be over with. He didn't want to say anything dumb to Alexander because he was intoxicated. But, he didn't admit that to himself. He was dreading the hangover, that was all. 

Lafayette shot him a surprised look. John was the heaviest drinker of the four, even though he was terrible at holding his liquor. John just shrugged Lafayette’s surprise off, and accepted a grateful pat on the back from Hercules. 

It was a five minute walk to Carpenter’s Hall and it was tradition to walk down. Hercules had a car, but had refused to lend it to the cause of his friends getting drunk every time they'd asked. Halfway through the walk, a realization seemed to hit Alexander, who stopped in the middle of outlining changes he would like to see in the student body (something Hercules and Lafayette found boring, but John was captivated by Alex’s energy) to interject his question. 

“Why do we need a designated driver?” No one answered. Mostly, John would guess, because the answer was obvious. What was confusing about a designated driver? “I mean, none of us are old enough to drink.” Alex amended.

Hercules let out a snort of laughter that sent Laf into a fit of giggles. John stared, waiting for Alex to retract the statement, and insist that he was joking. 

“They never check IDs at Carpenter’s Hall,” explained Herc, the first to recover. “They know they're catering to college students and can make more money that way.”

If this raised an issue with Alex, he didn't say anything. He looked slightly embarrassed. 

“Have you never drank before?” John asked. Lafayette leaned in dramatically, and Hercules watched Alex from the corner of his eye. 

Alexander’s features grew more and more sheepish, until he finally answered. “No,” he said. 

“No way!” Hercules yelled.

“Just wait,” Lafayette advised, “you're going to have the time of your life tonight.”

John just rolled his eyes and stayed quiet. 

The rest of the walk was occupied by excited descriptions of drunken escapades, and suggestions on the best drinks at the Hall. John tried his best to ignore his nerves, and goof off with his friends. And, for the most part, succeeded. 

He had been joking with Hamilton, at the expense of Lafayette’s outfit (his favorite American flag tank top and jeans), when they finally entered the Hall. There was no bouncer outside, Hercules was right the security was extremely lacking. But, no one was complaining. 

The air in Carpenter's Hall was heavy, and hot. It smelled like alcohol and sweat, which wasn't pleasant in a conventional way, but seemed to carry excitement anyway. In short, it smelled like a club. The air shuddered as subwoofers blasted base so loud, the lyrics of what John was fairly sure was Confident by Demi Lovato were almost completely drowned out. 

Immediately after coming through the door, they were waved over by two girls, and John was dragged to them by an overexcited Alexander. 

“This is Angelica Schuyler.” Alex introduced John to one of the girls, letting go of his arm and beaming. She was, admittedly, very beautiful and she had an undeniable aura of power. John nodded politely as Alexander finished the introduction. “Angelica, this is John Laurens.”

“Nice to meet you.” Her voice carried effortlessly over the music, and suddenly John felt sick. He excused himself as Angelica began to introduce Alex to the girl next to her, her sister. He made his way over to the bar, and when he arrived he realized all he could do was give jealous stares to those who could drink. 

_Three more hours,_ he assured himself as he watched Alex lead Angelica’s sister, Eliza, to the dance floor. Once it was eleven, everyone would be drunk enough that he could easily corral them back to their dorms with little resistance. He just needed to survive until then. 

An hour and a half later, and after having to warily fend off three girls who desperately wanted a dance, John was still standing in the same spot, his back leaned against the wall, and the bar to his right. Hercules had visited him four times, each a little more tipsy than the last, Laf had come to see him twice, and Alex had come to check up on him a grand total of zero times. 

Alex was on the opposite side if the bar, sitting next to a giggling Eliza, and ordering another round of shots. John glanced in his direction, felt his heart drop, and looked away as quickly as possible. There was nothing wrong with Alexander and Eliza hanging out. 

Lafayette sidled up to John, and then fell back into one of the nearest bar seat. “There's something wrong.” He said, his voice slurred and mildly concerned. John raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh yeah?” He asked plainly. Lafayette didn't respond for a moment, he just narrowed his eyes accusingly at John. 

“Oui.” He finally replied, his voice almost comically somber. “You like Alexander.” He didn't say it as if it were strange, or accusatory, just as if it were an inconsequential statement of fact. 

“What?” John exclaimed, his face growing hot. 

“Does he know you’re gay?” Laf’s sentences were now close to unintelligible, as he slipped from French to English almost every other word. 

“I don't like him.” John knew French, though. And, as much as he wished he couldn't, he knew exactly what his friend was saying. 

“Yes, you do.” Lafayette scolded, trying to stand up. It occurred to John that Laf might not be able to make it to eleven, as he fell back into the chair he was trying to stand from. 

“I don't have to admit anything until you admit you like Hercules.” John shot back. Lafayette’s face scrunched up in disgust. 

“No, his views on love are,” Laf took a long pause, as if to decide exactly what Herc’s views of love were, before finishing, “barbaric.” He nodded as he said the word for emphasis. “I mean, the idea that love can't transcend gender,” John obtained from pointing out that, as he was gay, he believed the same thing. “is- is absurd! And he’s straight as a goddamn stick!” Lafayette was practically yelling now, and people were looking. Luckily for Laf, it was doubtful that many people could understand what he was saying through his garbled English-French hybrid speech. “And he spends every night with a new girl. That's not love!” Again, John keeps himself from interjecting that there’s nothing wrong with Hercules habits. He was polyamorous, and it wasn't like he told any of those girls to expect more than a one night stand. Both sides knew what they were signing up for. But, John knew better, he knew Laf didn't care. 

“Okay, okay,” he said, trying calm down Lafayette before he became the focus of the entire bar. “Whatever you say, dude.”

“Casse toi.” Lafayette said in response to John’s sarcasm. And, without another word, he was gone. 

John breathed a sigh of relief. 

A half an hour after that, Angelica came to join John on the wall. She stood in uncomfortable silence next to him for a while before breaking it. “I know how you feel.” She said, and when John still didn't say anything, she kept going. “I mean, it hurts to see her with him. You like him.”

John pressed his lips together in a tight line. He was starting to get more than aggravated that it was that obvious. “No, I don't.” He replied through gritted teeth. His head was pounding and he was dying for a drink.   
“Okay.” She paused. “But, I liked him. And, it seems like Eliza being with him is bothering you. Because, it's bothering me. And, I know it shouldn't, because she's my sister. But, I knew that I couldn't go out with Alexander. He's just… so much, you know? He needs someone who will tell him to slow down, who will take time to give him time,” it occurred to John that Angelica is only telling him this because she’s tipsy. He immediately wished she would stop talking. “And, I won't do that for him. I mean, we'd make a helluva power couple, but we wouldn't be a couple. We're both so focused on ourselves, on growing and making a change. We'd just be growing together, not _growing together_ , you know?”

By nothing short of a miracle, John didn't have to wish for very long. 

Beyoncé comes on the speakers, yelling “Who run this motherfucker?”, and by the time the club is yelling girls in unison, Eliza has run up to Angelica. She's bouncing up and down in drunk excitement, as she drags Angelica off to the dance floor. John watched as Angelica’s face effortlessly melts into a facade of fake happiness. 

He felt his heart constrict as Alexander, now without Eliza, leans against the wall next to him. 

“Eliza’s nice.” Alex pointed out, a huge, dumb smile on his face. John didn't say anything. Alex either didn't notice, or didn't mind, because he didn't demand a response of any kind. 

It was another fifteen minutes before anything else happens. This time, it was Hercules who came to talk to John. Just as drunk as Laf, he walked up to John, held his hand out for a fist bump, and then missed John’s hand by a mile. He gave his hand a long look of betrayal before saying what he had come to say. 

“I'm taking Lafayette back to our dorm.” He reported. “He doesn't even know how to speak English anymore.” 

John nodded. That wasn't a new development, but he didn't mention it to Hercules. 

“You can look after Alex, right?” He asked, but didn't wait for a response. “Thanks, you're the best, man.”

At eleven, like he had promised himself, John made his way for the door. He took Alexander, a drunk, whining mess, with him. 

“I don’t wanna go.” Alex was still complaining, even after they were well on they're way back to campus. John rolled his eyes. “I had a good time.” He added as an afterthought. “Did you?”

“Sure.”

“Oh.” Even drunk, Alexander can catch that John did _not_ have a good time. And, John was thankful for that. He didn't want to talk to his wasted friend about his new girlfriend the whole way up to the dorms. 

“Burr’s gonna be so mad at me.” The comment wasn't necessarily targeted at John, but he still felt the need to nod in acknowledgement of it. “It's late and, ” Alex lowered his voice conspiratorially, “I'm drunk.”

John rolled his eyes. He realized that this was becoming his default for responding to drunk Alexander Hamilton. He didn't mind it. 

Then, just before they reached campus, the perfect ending to the night came. John, already tired, exasperated, and angry, stopped, because Alex suddenly halted. He was about to tell him to keep going, when, without warning, Alexander threw up. 

On John's jeans. On his shoes. 

“Oh my fucking god,” John exclaimed before really thinking about it. “Of course. Of fucking course, Alex! God, it's not like you've already ruined my damn night enough!”

Maybe it was because he was drunk, and couldn't stop himself, maybe it was because John had crossed a line, but Alexander broke into tears. Much to his surprise, John found that he actually didn't care. And, without another word, leaving Alexander to find his own way back to his dorm, John stormed off.


	9. Hamilton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm /really/ sorry for the long wait. I kinda got the flu. But, here we are and hopefully I'll get back to posting fairly quickly.

“I think John is mad at me.” Was the opener to the next day’s first conversation. It was spoken by Alexander, who was nursing a dreadful headache, and had barely dragged himself out of bed. After visiting John’s dorm, he had tracked Hercules and Lafayette down to a back corner of the library. Alex’s recollection of the night before was fuzzy at best, but he could remember enough to piece together that he wasn't in good standing with John. The first thing he had done, after throwing up a considerable amount and brushing his teeth five or six times, desperately trying to get the terrible taste of lingering alcohol and barf out of his mouth, had been to try to find John. 

Lafayette, who was sitting across from Hercules at the table in front of Alex, raised his eyebrow but didn't say anything. For a panicked moment, Alex tried to remember if he had done anything offend Lafayette as well. He didn't think he had. 

“I think I barfed on him.” He added diffidently, much to Hercules’s amusement. 

Before speaking, Lafayette kicked Hercules under the table, silencing him. “I don't think that's all he's mad at you for.”

Alex’s eyes lit up. “So you've talked to him?” In his excitement he slammed his hands down on the table in front of Lafayette. “Do you know why he's mad at me? Do you know where he is?” Lafayette still kept his features emotionless and unimpressed. It became increasingly evident to Alex that he was siding with John. 

“That's for him to tell you.” Lafayette responded shortly. 

Alex shot a pleading look in Herc’s direction. Hercules shrugged, his expression of mild horror and confusion suggested he was clueless as to what was going on. 

“Laf-” Hercules did try to help Alex, but he was cut off. 

“Hercules,” Lafayette snapped, causing both Alex and Hercules to jump. “How many times did you talk to John last night?”

“Um,” Herc gave Alex a cautious look from the corner of his eye before answering. “A few times. I mean, I don't really remember.” Laf’s silence seemed to make Herc even more scared than he already was. “Why?”

“No reason.” Lafayette’s calm was unsettling, and he returned to his art history textbook without another word. Alex stood at the head of his table, his mouth hanging open while he thought of a retort. 

After a minute of silence, Hercules shrugged and returned to his reading as well. 

“Laf, c’mon, I just need to talk this over with him.” Alex finally recovered, and began his pleading again, when the three of them were thrown back into silence.

As if entering on cue, without a word, without looking up from the ground, John Laurens pushed his way past Alex and sat down at the table next to Lafayette. “Hey, Laf.” He said curtly, before reaching into his bag and pulling out his own textbook. It occurred to Alexander at that moment that he hadn’t ever seen John within a mile of a textbook before.

Alexander stood in the agitated silence for as long as he could. It took less than a minute for him to break. 

“Okay, fine, John!” John started in his seat at Alexander’s outburst, he looked up in genuine surprise. If there had been noise in the library before, it was all gone now. “I messed up. And, I'm not even sure I know how I messed up, but I think I have an idea. And, yeah, I did kind of ignore you last night, and I'm sorry about that. I just-” The entirety of the library was focused on Alex, but he couldn't stop himself. To add to his embarrassment, he also couldn't seem to quiet himself. “I just- I'm just confused. And I thought if I hung out with Angelica and Eliza I could forget that. Because, you're my _friend_ , John,” John flinched at that but otherwise kept his stony composure, “and a really good one at that! I didn't want to mess that up, just cos you're cute. And, funny and have amazing morals and beliefs and are practically perfect, okay? I didn't want to ruin this,” Alexander gestured wildly at his three friends, who were now thoroughly shocked. “just because I like you!”

It took a few minutes, but Lafayette was the first to recover. John continued to stare at the table in detached horror as Lafayette jumped into a neighboring table. The students at it, whom had all been staring at Alex, jumped at his sudden movement.

“Okay, everybody!” He yelled at the top his lungs, so that the entire library could hear him. Alexander watched hopelessly. “You've all had your fill of drama! Now, everybody out.”

For a strange, weightless moment, everyone simply stared at Laf. Then, with plenty of grumbling but little resistance, everyone filed out of the library. Lafayette watched in satisfaction until the room was empty, and then jumped down from his spot on the table. 

“You two-” he began, but John was pushing his chair back before he could fit in another word.

“No,” John’s voice was quiet but steady. His words felt like a punch to Alex’s stomach. “No. I can't- I'm sorry, I have to go.”

And with that he was gone. Just as he had when he came in, he kept his head down. This time, though, he seemed to be in a much bigger hurry. Alex watched him retreat and felt heat belatedly rushing to his face. 

He opened his mouth, but when he looked at Hercules and Lafayette he could think of nothing to say. Finally, for the first time since he had come to the library, he fell into one of the chairs, burying his face in his hands. 

“I fucked up.” He mumbled pitifully into his hands. Lafayette let out a small snort of laughter that seemed to say, _wow, what a wonderful understatement_. 

“And now you’re going to fix it.” It surprised both Lafayette and Alexander that Hercules was the first to speak up. Alex looked up from his hands, curious to see what Hercules had to say. “Look, I don’t think I understand all of what’s going on here,” Hercules admitted, “but I do get that you’ve gotta tell John how you feel.”

“I just did.” Alexander pointed out in defeat. Lafayette raised an eyebrow.

“Okay,” Lafayette said slowly, as if he was still trying construct exactly what to say as he spoke. “So, we need a way to get him to listen, and then say how he feels.” His gears were turning, which made Alex nervous enough, but as soon as he spoke up, Hercules began to think too. The two mulling over the problem, trading inquisitive expressions and whispering the occasional idea to each other, was intimidating enough to make Alexander consider hiding under the table. 

“We’ll lock both of you in our dorm!” Hercules finally declared after a few minutes of Alex weighing his options. He wondered how long he could go, just hiding in his dorm, and if maybe everyone would have forgotten about this whole mess when he reemerged. It was too late now.

“What?” Alex choked out. He didn’t have time to move before Hercules was dragging him out of his chair.

“Yeah,” Lafayette agreed, pulling out his phone. “I’ll shoot John a text and tell him I want to talk and hang out, but when he shows up, it’ll be you in our dorm!” 

So, this was how it all ended, Alex thought as the door to Lafayette and Hercules’s dorm locked behind him. Only about three weeks into the semester and his entire social life was already halfway down the drain. He sat on what he presumed was Lafayette’s bed, his head back in his hands. The dorm was strange, practically split down the middle by a line created by what he was pretty sure was Hercules’s mess and Lafayette’s perfect order. The bed across from him wasn't made, with its sheets piled at its foot, and books piled near its head. The bed Alex sat on was neatly made, and actually even smelled good. 

Once he finally found the energy to take his head out of his hands, Alexander bobbed absently up and down on the bed. After about five minutes of that, his nervous bouncing wasn't enough to expel his anxiety, so he stood up to pace. He walked back and forth, counting the times he made the transition from the clean side of the room to the dirty side. 

_Clean, dirty, clean, dirty._ Alex had reached fifty when he heard noise outside the door. Startled, he threw himself back on Lafayette’s bed and sat perfectly still, holding his breath in anticipation. When the door finally flew open Alex jumped back in surprise, his feet coming up on the bed. He watched from behind his knees as two pairs of arms (undoubtedly Hercules’s and Lafayette’s) pushed John into the dorm and slammed the door. 

Alexander stared at John in nervous suspense, and John stared back in what looked like shocked anger. When their silence persisted, a shout rang through the door. 

“Talk it out, you two, or no dinner!” It was Lafayette. 

Alex still hadn't gathered the courage to breathe, and John was the first to make a move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...   
> Cliff hanger!! I'll try to get the next chapter out ASAP. Thanks for reading and I hope you're enjoying!


	10. Laurens

John was painfully aware of the fact that he had been a dick. That was why, after getting over the shock and outraged that he'd been screwed over by Laf and Herc, he approached Alexander like one might approach a wounded animal. Alex was staring at him, wide eyed, from the cleaner of the two beds in the dorm (definitely not Hercules’s bed, John thought). He had his knees pulled to his chest, and his head was poking out from behind them. He was watching John like a car crash, like he wanted to look away but couldn’t seem to. 

John wasn't mad at him for _this_ situation. He doubted Alex had any more say in it than he had. He moved toward Alex slightly, then thought better of it, and planted himself on the disarranged bed across from Alex. 

“I'm sorry for kinda running out like that.” John finally blurted after more than minute of uncomfortable silence. He frowned in surprise when Alex gave an amused smirk in response. 

“‘Kinda’ running out?” Alex laughed, and John wasn't sure if it was more to himself or directed at John. He felt his face grow hot, and found himself cursing the fact that blushes were very much visible against his lighter skin. “No, it's fine,” Alex added, almost as if it were an afterthought. “I mean, this mess is my fault, and most guys would be freaked out by another guy liking them. It was dumb of me to say anything in the first place.” 

It hadn't quite hit John that it must have seemed that way to Alex. Alexander thought he, John Laurens, was weirded out that he was bi? John couldn't stop himself, he broke into a fit of laughter. Whether it was due to relief or because of the sheer absurdity of the idea that John was a bigot, he wasn't sure. 

Alexander flinched at John's sudden laughter. John struggled to stop long enough to explain himself. 

“God no, I didn’t-” He tried to clarify through gasps for breath. “It’s not like that.” He finally got out, and Alex raised an eyebrow. He was trying to look disdainful, uninterested, John realized. It almost hurt. “No, I’m not freaked out by you.” When Alex’s expression didn’t shift, he decided it was best to just say it. “I’m gay.”

Alex’s eyebrow fell and he blinked a few times. He didn’t even seem shocked, just like he was processing. 

“I ran out because I was- I still am-” John interjected forcefully, making sure Alex knew all was not forgiven. “Mad about last night. And, I’m not exactly _out_ with everyone, you know?”

“Oh,” was all Alex said in response.

“Herc and Laf know, and I couldn’t care less if everyone at school did,” he began and took a deep breath. “It’s just that my dad is kind of the biggest bigot ever, and I’m not sure I’m ready to tell him.”

“Then don’t.” Now it was John’s turn to blink in surprise. Alexander’s feet were now hanging from the bed in front of him, his eyes burning with a strange kind of determination. “I think you’ll have to at some point, but that timing is up to you. You don’t have to tell him who you’re dating, though.”

John had to take a moment. Was Alexander suggesting that _they_ date?

“Okay.” John choked out through his thoughts, after noticing Alex’s expectant silence. “So?”

“So,” Alex continued, taking his own deep breath. “I’m sorry for last night.” He stood and sat next to John on Hercules’s messy bed. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you the minute I saw you that you’re honestly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m sorry for yelling about my repressed feelings so half the school could hear.”

John regarded this. He watched his friend out of the corner of his eye and thought about Alexander. He thought about his passion, and his constantly-running mouth. He thought about their friendship, and whether this would ruin it. But, in the end, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how much he just wanted to _kiss_ him. 

“And,” he finally spoke, “I’m sorry I didn’t do this earlier.” He leaned over and planted his lips on Alex’s. Alex let out a small, startled noise, but then he melted into the kiss. It wasn’t fiery, or desperate, it was slow and gentle. Like they were both afraid they might break the moment or the craziness that had possessed them both.

When they pulled apart they rested their foreheads on each other’s and laughed softly, both looking at the bed rather than each other. John felt heat rising to his cheeks again. 

Alex spoke first. “So, I guess we forgive each other.”

“Yeah,” John laughed. “You're just lucky you're cute.”

Then, just as John began eyeing Alex’s lips again, a yell came from outside. “Have you guys made up yet?” At the sound of Herc’s voice Alex began to blush profusely, as if the reality of everything had just come crashing down on him. John watched him wearily, ready for him to apologize and tell him it meant nothing. But he didn't. 

Instead, he laughed and pulled John in for another kiss. 

“What are you two doing?” This time it was Laf. 

“We can hear you giggling!” Hercules accused. John pulled away briefly, considering giving an explanation, or telling Alex to stop for a moment. But, Alex just shook his head mischievously and pulled John back in. 

They were so distracted, so caught up in one another, that they didn't notice the door cracking open behind John. Alex let out the same startled noise as before as Hercules and Lafayette let out a low chorus of suggestive ‘ooh’s from the door. John kissed him harder. _That noise was so cute_. 

After they had exhausted their immature routine, Lafayette stepped into the room. “Okay, okay, we get it.” He said, and John finally separated himself from Alex. Alex shot him a mock pout, but then they both turned to face their friends. 

“Y’all have got to get your own room.” Was all Hercules had to say, and Laf stayed perfectly quiet, his smug smirk saying enough for him. 

There wasn't much to say anyway. It was pretty simple, it was official. Hercules declared that a feast was in order, and meal swipes were on him (even though they all knew he was lying and would probably use Laf’s card). And, just like that, Alex and John were swept toward the mess hall.

There was a strange buzzing in John’s ears. Like it was all too good to be true, like it was all a dream. He laced his hand in Alexander’s and smiled. The best dream ever.


	11. Jefferson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a but of gap in time, but it's just a few weeks where nothing really would've went down anyway. Hope you enjoy!

There was nothing to be nervous about, and Thomas was beginning to consider strangling his best friend for thinking there was. He was currently leaning over his laptop, adding final touches to his speech, and James was leaning over _him_ , nitpicking. 

“You're a worry wart.” Thomas responded to another of his nervous comments. Usually James was like a rock, steady and calm, but now he grew more agitated the less nervous Thomas became. It was as if they were switching roles. 

“You're arrogant.” Thomas smirked at this, and didn't offer a denial. James wasn't wrong. 

Though, Thomas was also fairly sure he wasn't wrongfully so. He was running for a seat in the Student Council, specifically the position of president. James had argued that it was awfully ambitious, but Thomas had received personal encouragement from Washington, and he hated to let anyone down. He already a large number of votes secured, just by being in Sigma Pi, and his opponent wasn't exactly daunting. 

“Benjamin Franklin belongs in lecture halls and labs, not on the Student Council.” He had reasoned when James had first brought up his concern about Thomas’s opponent. James had said nothing, only raised his eyebrow. “He's a nerd. Brilliant, sure, but the dude’s got the charisma of a toad.”

Thomas had caught James suppressing a laugh at that, but he maintained his opinion. Franklin was more worrisome than Thomas gave him credit for. 

“You should switch seldom out for rarely. It keeps the cadence better.” James said from his position behind Thomas, jarring him from his thoughts. He shot his friend a glare.

“Let me do my writing.” He snapped. 

“I was just saying.” James raised his hands defensively and flung himself on the bed behind him. 

Once Thomas was sure James wasn't watching, he switched the words. 

The Wednesday of the fifth week of the semester was the day of the election. From how Thomas understood it, it was always set on this day. Exactly why, no one seemed to be entirely sure. 

He gave a few speeches in the weeks leading up to the election. He would represent the people to the best of his ability, and his policies were increased independence, and freedoms otherwise. Things college students were very receptive to. He wasn't progressive, some people complained, but neither was Franklin. He wouldn't lose votes over that. 

He had nothing to worry about. The day of the election came and the school buzzed with activity. Speeches drew on through the entire day, people filtering in and out of the auditorium whenever they could. Thomas, despite his way with words and undeniable charm, hated public speaking. He twitched in his seat uncomfortably, and watched as those running for other offices gave their speeches. 

“And now, running for the seat of Treasury,” the monotoned announcer droned, “Alexander Hamilton.”

Thomas’s head shot up. He had been preoccupied with his own candidacy, he had hardly had time to keep up with the other elections, especially not those running for treasury. The guy before Hamilton had been anything but memorable, Thomas had already forgotten his name, and it became suddenly clear to him that he would be on staff with Hamilton. Suddenly, in the scope of how miserable the whole year would be, the speech didn't seem so daunting. 

Hamilton spoke passionately, and well. He rattled off financial policies and mathematical equations like they were nothing. A few things he mentioned might have been far out of the Treasurer’s control, but the certainty with which he promised change excited the crowd. Even Thomas found himself doubting anyone could stop him. He watched in disapproval as Hamilton exited the stage, landing a kiss on John Laurens lips once he was off. Thomas took a double take. His brain reeled for a moment, before he, in almost a perfect imitation of Madison’s voice, reminded himself silently that now was not the time. 

Presidential candidates’ speeches were last. Franklin was greeted with a few, but very enthusiastic, fans’ cheers. If Thomas wasn't mistaken, Hamilton was among them. Benjamin gave a lengthy speech, detailing policy and slipping off into slightly whimsical tangents, usually concerning finance or physics. It occurred to Thomas that Franklin might not have actually made a bad treasurer. 

Thomas stood next to the stage, smirking, until Benjamin finished and he joined him on stage. They shook hands, Thomas trying desperately to keep gloating out of his expression as an uproarious cheer came over the audience. James had told him gloating was not appropriate. 

“Good luck.” Franklin muttered, and then walked off the stage. Thomas had to fight down a sparky _I don't need it, but thanks._

Franklin left the stage and the crowd quieted. Thomas felt his head swim a bit, but he took a deep breath. All he had to was survive this speech. He has the election in the bag. 

“If you're nervous, just look at me.” That had been James’s advice prior to the rally. Unlike he might have with other friends, Thomas didn't mention how gay that sounded. Maybe he didn't want James to think he was homophobic. He wasn't sure why that was the case, though, as it was usually seen as an acceptable attitude, if not cool. 

He shook the thought from his head and locked eyes with James, who gave a reassuring nod. 

“It's been said that my policies are vague.” Thomas began after a deep breath. “And they are. My candidacy isn't about what _I_ want for the school, as the president of the Student Council, what I want should be the least of my concerns.”

Then, the words began to fall from his mouth effortlessly. He moved around the stage, worked the crowd, and spoke about the importance of representation and freedoms. He made eye contact with practically everyone in attendance and even allowed himself one or two condescending glares in the direction of Hamilton and Co. The closing statements of his speech were met with a standing ovation. 

“I told you, there is no way I'm gonna lose this.” Thomas bragged to James once they were out of the auditorium. Candidates had been asked to leave during the voting sessions. James had voted as fast as possible and rushed outside to meet him. 

“You weren't half bad up there.” James admitted, a ghost of humor in his voice. Thomas smirked. 

“Really?” Anything resembling a smile fell from Thomas’s face. He would recognize that voice anywhere. “It gave me a rash.” Alexander Hamilton gave Thomas a wide-eyed, innocent stare. “I'm really allergic to bullshit.”

John Laurens stood beside Hamilton, fighting back an amused smile. Thomas narrowed his eyes. 

“My apologies, but I assumed you weren't, considering how much of it your boyfriend’ll have to be spreading.” He said comfortably, easily letting venom seep into his voice. It was strange how much he hated Hamilton, after all, he had barely given him reason to. “Last time I checked, anyway, if you're trying to keep yourself from getting disowned, being gay isn't the best way to go.”

He watched in satisfaction as color drained from John’s face and Hamilton’s jaw tightened. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Thomas noticed James shift uncomfortably, but he didn't make note of it. 

“You pretentious piece of-” Hamilton, Thomas realized with detached concern, was coming at him. But, if he had intended to start a fight, Thomas wouldn't know.

“Alex.” Laurens grabbed Hamilton’s arm, his tone strained but authoritarian nonetheless. “He's not worth it.”

The unbridled rage in Hamilton's eyes didn't leave, but he straightened himself. Thomas noticed he was shaking with anger. 

“Well, I just wanted to say, I hope to see you on the council.” Hamilton’s tone was mockingly polite, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes that Thomas almost missed. 

As they watched Laurens and Hamilton leave, James shrugged. “You probably crossed a line there.”

Thomas opened his mouth to shoot back a retort, but he hadn't forgotten James’s unease at his earlier comment. He shut his mouth without a word. 

The results of the election were posted the next morning. The President of the Student Council was Thomas Jefferson. The Treasurer was Alexander Hamilton. 

After a flurries of congratulations, Thomas finally made his way back to James, who had, as usual, woken before him and had known what the results were. 

“Congratulations,” James said, and after Thomas let out a bored sigh, he added, “and good luck.”


	12. Washington

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry if the writing for this chapter is total crap, but I was really struggling with getting it done, so I eventually just sat down and forced myself to get it done. So, there is a good chance it's kind of bad. Anyway, I'm trying to give Washington a chapter every ten chapters or so, because otherwise I will completely neglect him and plot development for fluff between John and Alex. So, hope you enjoy, I guess!

Washington was sick and tired of sitting behind his desk. The image of his office was burned behind his eyelids, and didn’t seem to waver even when he blinked. When he got home at night, he dreamt of sitting behind his desk, filling out paperwork and answering calls from upset staff members. In short, he was far from enjoying being headmaster. It was usually only his occasional stroll through the grounds, or meetings that broke the unbearable monotony. His favorite of these events were probably his weekly meetings with Hamilton, which were never dull.

“You’re not gonna _believe_ who I- or you, I guess- got an email from this week!” Alexander had taken to just barging into the headmaster’s office with no announcement of his arrival. Washington had once talked to his secretary about it, but apparently Hamilton didn’t even check in with her before his visits.

“The college board?” Washington asked, no longer surprised by Hamilton’s sudden appearances or his explosive energy. 

“Okay,” Alexander said, his eyebrows raising slightly, “so you _are_ gonna believe who you got an email from.” He amended, and sat on the plush seat in front of Washington’s desk. George knew it wouldn’t last, as soon as the conversation got going, Hamilton would be up and pacing restlessly, without fail. “But not just anyone, the big kahuna himself, ‘King George’.” 

Washington raised an eyebrow at Alexander’s nickname for the president of the board.

“After King George III, specifically.” Alexander shot into an explanation in response to Washington’s disapproving silence. “You know, because he was crazy and tyrannical. And tried to impose his will on oppressed peoples and,” Washington silenced him by simply raising his hand.

“I don’t really care _why_ you’ve given him a nickname, son.” He admitted, meaning to change the subject to what exactly what George wanted. However, he seemed to have struck a nerve.

“I’m not your son.” Hamilton seemed to have said it before he really thought it over. He turned scarlet, and added, “With all due respect, sir.”

Washington bit down several concerned comments, and tried to keep his brow from furrowing. “Of course,” he responded simply before moving on as quickly as possible. “What exactly did this email say?” 

“He wants to send a ‘liaison’, his words not mine,” Hamilton interjected, as if to fully clarify that he thought liaison was not the right word to use. “To watch after the school.”

Now Washington allowed his brow to furrow. “I see.” 

“I don’t think you’ve really got a choice, but I’d just thought you’d like a warning.” Washington nodded, and Alexander stood. But, it became apparent, not to leave, to start pacing. He was just getting started. “Also, sir, I’d like to talk to you about a financial plan.”

Washington rose an eyebrow in acknowledgement and, after a moment of silence, decided it was best to just say it outright. “Isn’t that the kind of thing that the treasurer should be bringing up with the student council?” Washington asked. Alexander let out a dissatisfied grunt, as if he had known Washington would ask exactly that.

“I know,” he mumbled, “but Jefferson won’t let me get a word in edgewise.” Washington settled in. Now Hamilton was really getting started. This was what he had really wanted to talk to him about. “He keeps the floor busy with other proposals, and if I even try to make a suggestion, he moves to adjourn the meeting.” Alexander stopped for a breath. “And Madison always seconds it for him.” He added the last comment under his breath. 

“And you want me to…?” Washington left the end of his sentence hanging, as if it were a question, but he had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly what Hamilton wanted him to do. He also knew that he couldn’t do it for him.

“You’ve gotta put it into effect. I’ve been thinking about this from the first day I got accepted here. It’s brilliant, trust me.” Washington realized just how comfortable he was with Hamilton when he had to suppress an eyeroll. “It would easily fill the gap that’s plummeting this school into debt, prioritize the debt payments, and, if I did my math right, and I did, you should even be able to lower textbook prices, and still have some money to raise pay for professors.” Hamilton paused, even stopping in his pacing. “All I need you to approve it.”

“No,” Washington answered after pretending to give the proposition thought. “All you need to do is get the student council to listen. If your plan is as brilliant as you say, it will pass without resistance, you just have to get past Jefferson and Madison.” Hamilton let out an angry sigh. “And I think you’re perfectly capable of figuring this out on your own,” Washington barely stopped himself from adding ‘son’. 

“Of course, sir,” Hamilton answered shortly before shooting into the next order of business. “I also wanted to ask about moving dorms.”

“Is there something wrong with your current roommate?” Washington asked.

“No, you know how Burr is.” Hamilton paused, possibly gaging whether or not he had to outright state how Burr was. Eventually he decided he did. “He’s just kind of lukewarm. On everything.”

Washington smiled despite himself. He did know how Burr was, actually. “So then what’s the issue?”

“There isn’t one, I was think it’d be nice to be roomed with my friend, John.” Alexander said confidently.

“Alexander, I’m not dumb.” Washington responded bluntly. He watched as Hamilton’s confidence fell from his features. “I know you and Laurens are more than friends. Professors gossip just as much as your peers.” He explained. Alexander opened his mouth to protest or defend himself, but Washington held his hand up to silence him again. “But, I’m also not sure that, as your headmaster, it is my responsibility to stop you from sharing a room with your boyfriend. And, if I’m not mistaken, your friends Lafayette and Mulligan switched dorms within the first week of semester, and neither of them bothered to ask permission.” Washington took a moment to let that sink in. “So, I will not arrantly give you permission to move in with your boyfriend. However, I won’t persecute you any more for moving without warrant than I did your friends.”

Alexander’s face cracked into a smile. Washington allowed this to assuage his guilt for not helping Hamilton with his financial plan.

Hamilton was halfway out of the door before Washington remembered one last thing. “Hamilton, a fair warning,” George said, and Alexander peeked back through the door to his office. “Family Day is coming in a week. I just thought you’d like a warning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (also, _ugh_ washington is _such_ a dad)


	13. Laurens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. So sorry for the wait, but making this chapter was a trip. At first, I wrote an entire, nearly two-thousand word chapter from Lafayette's perspective, when I suddenly realized that Laf was a freaking orphan and I had to totally scrap it and start over. Then I got grounded for a bit, and this was saved on my phone. Then, I got hit with a train of inspiration, and am now thinking about starting up another fic. It's been wild. And that's not even mentioning school and sports. But, I really actually like this chapter, so hopefully y'all will too!

The week leading up to Family Day reminded John of the time the time he had mistaken a porcupine for his dog when he was a child and chased it down. They were incredibly similar experiences, the only difference being that the porcupine had hurt him physically; the week prior to Family Day hurt all the same. Hercules immediately disappeared, even staying out late enough that Lafayette couldn't catch him in their dorm. And everyone on campus treated Alexander, Lafayette, and John like they were made of glass. 

_The orphan, the bastard, and the outcast._ It wasn't hard to overhear the whispered conversations in the mess hall, and it was hard to miss the students passing out fliers for event quickly quieting themselves and avoiding eye contact as the three anomalies passed. Lafayette seemed just as awkward about the whole situation, which only magnified the others’ behavior. He only seemed to be able to relax around John and Alex. Alex, on the other hand, seemed to feed it on it. It was a restless, angry energy, and he acted out worse than usual, but that was on the rare occasions that he was seen out of his dorm. He was obsessed with his financial plan. He didn't sleep, he barely paid attention in classes, he was irritable. 

John was beginning to feel like he was the only sane person left at King’s. He had considered talking to Aaron about the whole mess, after all Aaron was an orphan. But, he realized, Aaron had managed to dodge a bullet by staying out of people’s focus, and John doubted that Burr would appreciate him ruining that. And, besides, John wasn't _that_ desperate yet. 

John spent the majority of his time huddled around a table in the back corner of the library with Lafayette, trying to avoid anyone and everyone. Lafayette had found a new fondness for accessories, namely sunglasses and an old winter scarf that was much to warm for the late fall. He was just taking off his sunglasses, and joining John at their table when John couldn't hold it in anymore. 

“You know, if you don't act like a freak, they won't treat you like one.” He wasn't actually sure if it was meant to be mean spirited, but it was certainly taken as so. As soon as the words had left his mouth he realized his mistake and wanted to reclaim them. 

“Oh really?” Lafayette snapped. “And how’s that working for you?”

John bit down on his tongue, hard, to stop himself from saying anything else. He let out a deep breath through his nose and immediately returned to staring blankly at his textbook. It took less than a minute for Lafayette to talk again. 

“I'm sorry,” he blurted. “God, I wish this week were over.” John looked up again to see Lafayette was nearly in tears. Suddenly John felt like utter shit. “Even Hercules thinks I'm- well, I mean, we're- freaks, right?”

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that.” John apologized, his face heating up.

“What you said doesn't change what Herc thinks.” Lafayette was looking down at his sunglasses with longing in his teary eyes, almost as if he wished he had never taken them off. 

“Herc doesn't think you're a freak.” John tried to make his voice firm enough that Lafayette couldn't object. “This,” he gestured vaguely, “is just awkward for him. Hell, it's awkward for everyone.”

Laf nodded slowly, and they both let silence fall over them. John did take a bit of solace in what Lafayette had said, once the week was over, everything would go back to normal. Maybe even Alexander. 

He missed seeing Alexander. He missed having him to talk to. He wondered if Lafayette felt the same way about Hercules. He wondered, despite all the times that he joked with Laf about it, if he really did like Hercules. 

John went to Lafayette’s dorm to do shots later. Lafayette had found Hercules stash of alcohol, which was left abandoned and, by Laf’s reasoning, was therefore free for their use. 

After two shots, John realized how little fun he was actually having. He abstained from drinking anymore, and cursed Alexander silently. This was the second time that damn man had caused him to pass on alcohol. He was driving John crazy. Lafayette, on the other hand, drank enough that John seriously began to worry for his health. He escorted his friend to his bed after a few hours and watched as Lafayette slowly fell asleep, muttering angrily about burning Hercules’s shit. 

John smiled softly to himself. He understood the feeling. There would have been nothing more satisfying than watching Alex’s laptop melt. But, he also knew the only reason he felt that way was because he loved Alex. He _knew_ , no matter how many times either of them might have denied it, that Lafayette only felt this way because he had feelings for Hercules. 

John waited until Lafayette was soundly asleep before sneaking out of the dorm. It was well past one in the morning and, being a weekday, students were expected to have been well past in bed. John took a back way to his dorm that he knew, for a fact, was never policed. He eased himself into the hall where his dorm was, snuck up the stairs past the RA’s dark office, and opened the door to his dorm. 

He half expected Alex to still be awake, since his meeting with Washington about the financial plan, he had stayed up far later than one most nights. But, when John cracked the door open, he caught a glimpse of his roommate and boyfriend crashed at his laptop, drooling on their shared desk, only inches from his keyboard. John found himself unable to resist, and, careful not to wake Alex, swiped on the touchpad to wake the screen. 

John had only ever been able to put together fragments of Alexander’s personal life. Even being his boyfriend, Alex had never taken the opportunity to divulge all of his past to John. From what he could gather, Alexander was from a poor neighborhood in New York, Harlem if John was remembering right. His dad had left him and his mom there, drowning in debt, after his mother had gotten pregnant before the two were married. In summary, despite all of John’s dad’s shortcomings, Alexander's father still took home the ‘worst dad of the year’ award in their friend group. That was why what John saw on Alex’s screen took him by surprise. 

The screen light up lazily, as if we're just as tired as Alexander after all of its work. Chrome was open to Alex’s Gmail account and, more specifically, a half-composed email, addressed to James Hamilton. 

John read it, his stomach turning with the realization that this was _not_ something he was supposed to have read. It was nothing serious, just a checkup, an update on Alex’s life, and a request to see his father at parents day. It was part of a string of emails, and even a quick look over the ‘quoted text’ below made it rather clear how one sided the entire exchange was. Despite this, none of the emails seemed malicious to any degree. They resembled exactly what John would imagine a good, loving son would send to his father. 

John closed the computer slowly, feeling some unidentifiable, shitty feeling rising in his stomach. For a moment, he actually wanted nothing less than to talk to his own dad. If Alex could forgive _his_ father, if Alex could actively try to reach out to his father, who was John to ignore his dad? But, once John was changed and lying in bed, the moment passed. 

And, as he laid there, watching Alex snore with his face squashed against his accidental pillow, he worried. He worried about Parents’ Day. He worried about Alexander and his father. He worried about Alexander’s financial plan. He worried about when he would get his damn boyfriend back.

As he slipped off to sleep, he found a small part of himself that wasn't focused on the future. He found a part of himself he'd tried hard to bury and ignore for an entire week. He found himself, tears stinging his eyes, missing his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Hamilton really did stay in contact with his father like this. And I wanted to write something in like that really badly. 
> 
> Also, I'm realizing that a lot of my chapters have been Hamilton or Laurens, esp. Laurens. And, I felt bad about that, but ya'know what? This is a Lams fic and I reserve all rights to do as many Lams chapters as I want. So, thanks for being patient with my obvious favoritism. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it, and I'll try to get the next one out faster~!


	14. E. Schuyler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Eliza chapter~! I really wanted to make her first chapter special, so it's a little but longer and hopefully pretty fun! Enjoy!!

Eliza shot awake at four thirty in the morning. It wasn't like her to wake up nearly so early, but she couldn't help it. It had been all Angelica could do the night before to get Eliza to go to sleep. 

“Ang!” She squealed in the darkness, swinging her feet around so they hung from the edge of her bed. She bounced energetically on the bed listening to the groaning springs and her sisters exhausted groan. “Ang!” She tried again in her impatience. 

“Eliza,” Angelica’s muffled voice came from her bed. Eliza, her eyes slowly adjusting to the lightness dorm room, giggled slightly at the mass of blankets that was her sister. 

“Peggy and Dad are coming today!” She practically sang, flinging herself off of her bed. 

“Elizabeth Schuyler,” Angelica warned in her ‘mom voice’, that had scared both of her younger sisters into obedience for years. “If you dare turn on that light…”

But, it was too late. Angelica made a noise that very nearly resembled a hiss and light poured into the room. 

“We've got to meet them at the airport!” Eliza pulled on her favorite dress and was already pulling on a pair of white pumps by the time Angelica had stood up. 

“How? Neither of us have a car.” Angelica whined, settling for a much simple ensemble of a t-shirt and jeans.

“Yeah,” Eliza answered mischievously, a plan already forming. “But I know where we can get one.”

Eliza wasn't a loud knocker, usually. Knocking felt terribly demanding to her, and she honestly hated it. But, in her excitement, the thought didn't even cross her mind as she rapt her knuckles on the wood of Alexander Hamilton’s dorm. 

“Hey, babe, could you get that?” A muffled and distracted voice came from the other side of the door. It was undeniably Alexander. After the club incident, which was followed in quick succession by his dating John Laurens, Alex had come to Eliza and offered his friendship. She was more than glad to accept, despite that it was hard to simply swallow her feelings for him. 

“What the hell are _you_ two doing here?” The face that met Eliza and Angelica at the door was not Alex’s. Instead, the sleep dazed, confused, and slightly angry features of John Laurens greeted them. 

“Good to see you, too, John.” Eliza said, completely sincere. She was fully aware that there might have still been some bad blood between the two of them, but she wanted nothing more than to overcome it. 

“It's the crack of dawn.” He complained, a yawn stretching his last few words into incomprehensible gibberish. 

“We need a car.” Eliza explained, pushing past him into the dorm. John momentarily opened his mouth in protest but, as Angelica past with an apologetic shrug, seemed to resign himself. 

“Hey Eliza!” Greeted a much more awake Alexander, who was sitting at his laptop. He had turned his back to the glowing screen, which was open to a lengthy word document. 

“We don't have a car.” John finally articulated words, throwing himself on his bed in defeat. 

“We don’t,” Alex admitted, “but Herc does. Where ya headed to?” Eliza felt her stomach melt as his eyes met hers. Even at five in the morning they were brimming with an ageless energy that made them dangerously captivating. 

“We were going to pick up out sister and father from the airport.” Angelica covered when Eliza realized that she couldn't quite get herself to speak. 

“Sweet!” Alex hopped up from his seat. “Road trip!”

John groaned unenthusiastically from his spot on the bed behind everyone else. Eliza wondered briefly if Alex was meaning to take part in said road trip, but ultimately decided it didn't matter. 

“So we can borrow Hercules’s car?” She asked excitedly. 

“Yeah, sure,” Alex answered without hesitation. 

“Um, y'all might want to ask Herc about that.” John interjected. “Just a suggestion.” Before Alex spoke again, Eliza swore she heard John muttering something about early mornings and stress bringing out the southerner in him. 

“Ok, let's go ask him.” Alex was bounding towards the door long before John could object. Something John seemed inclined to do. 

Even Eliza was fairly certain that waking up Hercules Mulligan at the wee hours of the morning to ask for his car might not have been the soundest of ideas, but she said nothing to stop it. If Angelica thought anything of it, which she was almost sure to have, she didn't say anything either. 

This time, Alex knocked. He was a loud and very sure knocker. John had begrudgingly dragged himself along with the rest of the troupe. When asked by Angelica why he didn't stay in bed, he had made it very clear how likely Alex was to get himself killed without him. Eliza actually didn't doubt it. 

“Wha-” Hercules, who had been just as bleary eyed as John, jumped at the sight of his friend. “Oh God, Alex. What are you doing?”

Alex smiled and let himself into the dorm without hesitation, inviting the others along with him. John apologized briefly as he walked past Herc, who looked incredibly anxious. When everyone was settled, Lafayette still struggling to keep his eyes open, Hercules began to speak. 

“Look, Alex, if this is about the avoiding thing-” He started, but Alex held up a silencing hand. 

“Forget about it,” he insisted. Eliza watched the scene play out, feeling confused and strangely out of place. “We need to borrow your car.”

“What?” Hercules gaped,rubbing his eyes as if he wanted all this to be a dream. “No! No way! I'm not letting you guys just run away with my van.”

“Cool, then come with us.” Alex offered. Everyone sat, for a surreal moment, just exchanging anywhere from skeptical to bewildered looks. Finally, Hercules spoke. 

“Okay,” a chorus of ‘yes’ broke out across the room. Except from John, who just let out yet another miserable groan. “But!” Hercules yelled over the clamor. “Only this once, and only cos I've been a dick this week.”

As they all filed from the room, Eliza heard John whisper something to Hercules. She knew immediately that she should not have heard it, and the best course of action was to ignore it. And yet, she made a mental note to ask Alex. 

“This does _not_ mean your off the hook.”

The car was an ancient, beaten down Chevy Express. It's color, a faded blue if Eliza was right, was almost completely hidden under swaths of bumper stickers. Anything from gay rights to funny one liners were depicted. Angelica shot Eliza a quizzical look. Eliza shrugged. And with that, the six of the piled in. 

Eliza was pleasantly surprised to see that there was still plenty of room in the car. Hercules drove, and John sat in the passenger seat, decidedly ignoring his boyfriend, who was sitting behind him and fondly fixing his hair. Eliza and Angelica shared the second row of seats, and Lafayette had sprawled himself across the final seats and was already soundly snoring. 

Angelica leaned over as Hercules began to back out of his parking spot. “We don't need everyone just to pick up Dad and Peggy.” She pointed out under her breath. 

Eliza just nodded. She was aware, but she wasn't entirely sure there was another option. Besides, this was going to be, without a doubt, the most interesting two hour car ride of her life.

First was the argument over what to listen to. Alex wanted Kanye West. John was dying for some Front Bottoms. Lafayette just wanted everyone to shut up. And, Eliza and Angelica abstained from the argument. Hercules, ever the diplomatic mom friend, eventually decided the radio would have to do, and turned it on loud enough that he couldn't hear anyone. Much to Lafayette’s displeasure. 

It was an hour before anything else of consequence happened. Eliza had been dozing off, half heartedly watching as John and Alex exchanged heated and unintelligible whispers, until John finally lost it. 

“You really think I'm gonna buy that shit, Alexander?” He said, obviously much louder than he intended, but there was no going back now. Suddenly, their argument was everyone's business. 

“Yeah, I do! Jesus, maybe try trusting me for once.” Alex shot back. He hadn't seemed angry before, but John's last inquiry must have been the last straw. 

“I do! A lot! But this time, you're not doing very well at covering for your bullshit.” Eliza looked to see that Angelica was staring back at her, mirroring her horrified expression. “Me and Laf spent half our week hiding in the library, and you can't be bothered to grace with your presence once! But, as soon as Eliza needs help you're all ears and ready for a full scale excursion!”

Eliza slid further down in her seat. She just wanted to see her little sister. 

“Laf didn't seem to mind.” Alex answered, more coolly this time. 

“Laf isn't your boyfriend!” John yelled, his voice cracking in exasperation. 

“Don't bring me into this, either of you.” Lafayette, now fully awake, called from the back seat. 

“You're scaring the girls.” Hercules pointed out with inflection. Eliza considered insisting that wasn't true but, even though she wasn't necessarily scared, she would have pretended to be to get John and Alex to stop. 

“We'll take about this later.” Alex concluded. John laughed, it was nothing like his usual, warm laugh, it was harsh and forced. 

“Damn right we will.” And with that, he turned at stared out the front window. 

The ride was mostly quiet after that. Eliza put in some earbuds and watched the landscape zip by the highway. At some point, though she wasn't sure when, she fell asleep on Angelica’s shoulder.

“First stop of the morning!” Hercules called, louder than anything Eliza’d ever heard in her life. “The Albany International Airport!” It was obvious he was eager to break the awkward silence that had dominated the car ride. “Okay, kids,” he said as he pulled into the airport’s drop off area. “This is the deal: we're splitting into two groups. The Schuylers are getting out and meeting their dad, and as for us,” Hercules took advantage of a small pause to give every one of his friends a stern stare. “We're grabbing coffee. Kapeesh?” He said in a tone that made it very clear, even if no one kapeesh-ed, it didn't matter. Orders were orders. 

Eliza nodded, and grateful to get out of the tense van, was ready to make a mad dash for the door when Alex spoke up. 

“Shouldn't one of us walk them in?” He asked timidly, shrinking under the accusing eyes of his friends. “I mean, I wouldn't mind meeting Mr. Schuyler.”

“No way in hell. You and your boyfriend _obviously_ need to work on communication. ASAP.” Hercules admonished, and Alex simply nodded and complied. There were no further questions. 

“Our dad and Peggy are gonna be here any minute.” Angelica blurted, and both girls were out of the door within seconds. “God.” Was all Angelica could seem to muster. 

“Yeah.” Eliza replied, taking a deep breath. “Whatever, let's go see Peggy!” She squealed, already ready to forget the bad and get ready for the good. She was, in the truest form, an optimist. Something she prided herself on. 

There was the usual chaos of finding where exactly they needed to be, but eventually they found the terminal where they were meant to be. There were already passengers of the flight milling around, looking for their bags and family. 

Eliza let out something between a sharp gasp and a high pitched scream when she saw Peggy. “Peggy!” She yelled, moving at speeds nearly impossible in pumps. 

“Betsey!” Her younger sister called back, opening her arms for a hug. The two embraced for what felt like forever, and yet wasn't quite long enough. Eliza heard her father greeting Angelica.

“Woah,” Angelica complained. “Do _I_ get to say hi to my favorite little sis?”

“Hey…” Eliza narrowed her eyes at her smirking older sister as she let go of Peggy. She gave her dad a short but excited hug. “It's so good to see you two!” She was practically jumping up and down. 

“It's only been a few months.” Peggy pointed out, but she couldn't wipe the grin off her face either. 

The three girls huddled into a tight group hug and Eliza smiled contentedly. Now the only thing left to worry about was the ride back to campus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know Philip Schuyler lived in Albany and wouldn't have to fly in, but I couldn't resist this idea after it hit. Also, the Schuyler mom actually would be alive, but we're gonna assume she's at home doing her own thing cos I didn't feel like writing her in. Lastly, parents day is probably gonna be like, three or four chapters long, bc some important shits gonna go down. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	15. Lafayette

The car broke into pandemonium the moment Eliza and Angelica were gone. Lafayette wasn't entirely sure who started it, but he was fairly sure it was John, whom had twisted, almost violently, in his seat to chew out Alexander. Alex was just as ready to fight, though, and the two were in a screaming match within seconds. Hercules was leaning across the gap in his and John’s seats, trying desperately to get either of the other to calm down. 

Lafayette sat, all the way in the back, feeling his stomach drop. 

“Really because it sure hell looks that way!” John was yelling over Alexander.

Who was yelling, “What do you mean? I. Don't. Like. Eliza!” Ober Hercules, who was just trying to keep some semblance of peace. 

“Guys! Shut up!” He was yelling, pulling at John's arm in an attempt to get him to turn around.

Lafayette considered going back to sleep. Or at least pretending to be asleep. This whole day, only two hours long at this point, had been a complete disaster. Parents Day was shaping up to fit the week long, exhausting build up. 

“Could you guys chill!” Lafayette finally yelled, his involvement shocking everyone just enough to get them to be quiet. “Listen,” he said, but was horribly aware that he had no idea what he wanted them to listen to. So, he passed on serving up some all dues ex machina advice, and instead just said, “Hercules promised me coffee and as long as you two fight I don't get any.”

His three friends gave him blank stares for a solid minute. Alex opened his mouth to say something, but obviously thought better of it. 

“Thank you, Laf.” Hercules finally sighed, turning back to the steering wheel. “When I said you needed to communicate, I meant talking nit screaming.” Hercules put the car in gear and began driving towards a nearby Starbucks. Lafayette wouldn't realize that he had no idea how Hercules knew where the Starbucks was, but when he asked later the best answer he could get was, “I have an unfailing compass that finds the nearest coffee shop. Duh.”

“Sorry.” Alex mumbled. John said nothing. He was staring out the front window again. 

At the Starbucks they split up. Lafayette leaned over his chai latte, avoiding eye contact with Hercules, as John employed similar tactics in a booth a little but away. 

“Now that we're in public they can't totally lose it.” Hercules accompanied his statement with a quick, awkward laugh. 

Lafayette took a sip of his chai latte. It was good, as always. The uncomfortable pause was about to cause Lafayette a stroke when Hercules finally spoke up again. 

“Ya know, they say talking over your issues is easier if you're naked.” His tone was suggestive, and Lafayette could practically _feel_ Herc wiggling his eyebrows.

Laf despised the involuntary smile that was spreading across his lips. “Oh really?” He tried to make his smile look more like a smirk. He kept his eyes stubbornly fixed on the straw of his beverage. 

“Laf,” all of a sudden Hercule was all business. “I really am sorry about this whole week.” Lafayette said nothing, mostly because he couldn't think of anything to say, and so Hercules continued. “I mean, I know it was shitty of me, but I honestly didn't know what to do. You're my best friend. I didn't want you to get mad just because…” 

Herc trailed off awkwardly and Lafayette nodded. “I get it.” He said reassuringly, finally gather enough courage to look up. Hercules looked relieved, but still slightly apprehensive. “Don't get me wrong,” Laf warned, “I'm still royally passed at you, Hercules Mulligan. But, I don't want to lose you just because…” He teasingly mocked Hercules’s earlier mid sentence stop. “Either, okay?”

Herc’s face split into his usual lopsided grin. Lafayette ignored the momentary feeling of his stomach fluttering. It was just relief. And besides, he assured himself, Hercules was as straight as a stick. 

There was a few more minutes of meaningless banter before Hercules’s face fell into an expression of pure horror. “Oh shit dude,” he whispered, checking his watch. “My mom’s gonna be at King’s in a fucking hour.”

Lafayette held in a snicker. “You're not gonna make it.” He pointed out diplomatically. 

“I'm gonna try like hell.” Hercules insisted, shooting up from his seat. “You get Alex and John. I'll get the van.” He dashed out of the Starbucks, leaving his coffee abandoned and still steaming.

Lafayette shrugged. More for him. He grabbed both cups on his table, and made his way over to his other two friends. They hadn't noticed Hercules’s sudden exit, and Lafayette approached slowly in hopes of catching a but of their conversation before interrupting them. 

“I know, this fucking plan has been driving me up the wall though. And I need to get it passed.” Alex was explaining, his head buried in his hands. 

“Yeah, that's fine. I just don't like that it's more important than _me_ and yet less important than _her_.” Was the final point John was able to make before Laf placed his hand on his shoulder. 

“Yo,” he greeted, hopefully cheerily enough that they wouldn't think he had heard anything. “How're my two favorite lovebirds?”

“We're fine.” John snapped, but immediately softened. “I'm sorry, I'm doing the thing where I'm stressed and I become a total dick again.”

“Kind of.” Alex mumbled from across the table. Lafayette noticed that John had to stop a laugh at that, which made him feel a little better. Everything would work out fine. 

“Herc is, how do you say,” he paused, actually taking a moment to think through several English expressions before landing on the right one, “flipping shit. He needs to get back to campus.”

“Okay, let's go then.” John said, standing with his two coffees in either hand. He was terrible with early mornings. 

Alex bounded after them, and the three of them found an impatient Hercules waiting right outside the exit. Lafayette reclaimed his usual place in the passenger seat, forcing Alex and John to share the back. 

“What part of ‘we've gotta fucking go’ means, ‘hey take your damn time getting to the door’ to you?” Hercules greeted them. It was obvious he wasn't actually angry, and Lafayette suspected he had resigned himself to being at least a bit late. 

“You left your coffee.” Laf responded, deciding to ignore his friend’s rude welcome. 

“Thanks,” Hercules said, holding out his hand absently for his coffee as he pulled out of the parking lot. 

“I never said you were getting it back.” Laf teased before taking a big swig of Hercules disgusting, pitch black coffee. He tried to bite back a gag as he lowered the cup from his mouth. 

“See? You don't want it.” Hercules bragged, snatching back his drink. 

Mr. Schuyler did not look pleased with his transportation. He looked even less pleased when he saw that the inside was already occupied by four teenage boys, two of which were swapping whispers and canoodling in the back. Peggy Schuyler looked bright eyed and excited. Lafayette was taken aback by how attractive she was, even though, knowing her sisters, it shouldn't have been a surprise. She wore her hair in pigtails with a snap back pulled on backwards over them. There was a flannel tied around her (shapely, not that Laf noticed) waist, and her face seemed as if it were carved of marble. Her complexion was heavenly. 

Lafayette turned back around to check on the road ahead. He heard Alex introducing himself enthusiastically to Mr. Schuyler. 

“Hey,” Peggy’s high voice sounded nearly musical. “I love your bumper stickers. Where'd you get all of them?” She was talking to Hercules. 

“They're actually mostly John's. I have no idea where he got any of ‘em.” Hercules admitted, and John took it from their. 

The car was filled with the hum of polite conversation and the low radio. Peggy and John poured over stories of pride parades and strange, local shops. Alexander and Mr. Schuyler (“Philip, you can all call me Philip,” he had insisted, but Lafayette was far from that comfortable with the father of one of his best friend’s almost girlfriend.) discussed finance and politics. They saw eye to eye on quite a few things and, possibly for the first time in his life, Alex managed to stay civil. Eliza excitedly joined in on all and any conversation, and Angelica tried, in vain, to catch a few more minutes of sleep. 

Lafayette just sat in the front and listened to everything. Herc was focused on the road, so there wasn't much activity up front. He was vaguely aware that they were exceeding the speed limit by a considerable amount, but he decided not to worry about it. 

For now, as far as he could tell, everything had worked out just fine.


	16. Madison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, fun fact, James Madison had 9 siblings that survived infancy. Three of those siblings wouldn't have been born by the time he was nineteen, but I still wasn't writing in six random kids that you can find literally nothing on historically. On the other hand, Thomas Jefferson only had 8 siblings. So that's great. But, I legit just left out 6 of them like they didn't exist. Y'all get his adorable twin siblings, who would've been seven when he was nineteen. There was way too much research involved in this, but it might've been worth it cos this chapter is lowkey bomb. Hope you enjoy~!

On the door of dorm 102 in the Sigma Pi building there were rules posted. They were titled _The Ten Commandments_ and there was a copy on either side of the door, both to inform new visitors and to remind the tenants. The second rule, which was highlighted in an obnoxious purple, stated that no one, under any circumstances, should knock on the door, or otherwise wake up either dorm mate before 10, if they weren't already awake.

But, apparently, not only did Randolph and Anna Jefferson not abide by rules, they wanted to watch them burn. Just before seven o'clock, the two little balls of energy burst through the door in a flurry of excited squeals and flailing appendages. 

“Thomas! Thomas! Thomas!” From his place in his top bunk, James Madison felt the wake of the two children projecting themselves onto their older brother’s bed. He couldn't help if they had such a profound distaste for rules simply because they grew up under Thomas’s oppressive rule. The Ten Commandments were a testament to how much Thomas loved lists of rules. 

Thomas, within a second, had exploded into a vulgar yelling fit, as he fought off his two siblings. James struggled to wake himself up, all the while aware of the knot of vague horror that was forming in the pit of his stomach. It was, first and foremost, because of the nice little language lesson the younger Jefferson’s, and undoubtedly Thomas’s mother, were receiving, courtesy of the eldest Jefferson child. 

However, that was not the only reason. There was also the realization that today was parents’ day and, although they would be late, his parents would be arriving to ruin his short lived, and greatly enjoyed reign of freedom that had been college. They would want to know why he didn't have a significant other. They would ask if he had been drowning himself in schoolwork. They would ask about how many parties he had been to, how many times he had gotten drunk, if he had heard of or been to Carpenter’s Hall down the road. And, James would have been willing to bet his life, by the end of the day they would have suggested that he get together with Thomas. 

“Thomas Jefferson, you watch your mouth.” James had finally managed to sit up, and watched as Mrs. Jefferson came into their room, her features set in a stern expression. James observed quietly from his place above the scene as Mrs. Jefferson’s face cracked into a smile, and she held her arms wide for a hug from her son.

If James remembered correctly from the previous week of ‘Jefferson Family Crash Course’ he had been forced to endure by Thomas, the Jeffersons had made their fortune (and they _did_ have a fortune) through Thomas’s father’s business, an architectural company that had practically built the town Thomas had grown up in. But, Thomas’s father had died five years ago, thusly leaving Mrs. Jefferson, Jane, to make the trip herself with the two younger Jeffersons. Randolph and Anna were twins and over a decade younger than Thomas and James. 

“Thomas! Thomas! Is that James? The guy you texted mom about?” Randolph pulled on his brother's sleeve, but Thomas ignored him and kept hugging their mother. 

“You said he was cute,” Anna pouted, obviously disappointed. Thomas immediately let go of his mother to slap Anna on the arm, not hard enough to hurt her. 

“Shut up, Anna!” He yelled. 

James wondered just how many people they had woken up along their hall. He supposed, if his parents weren't such nuisances, he would have told them the same of Thomas. In fact, he was a bit flattered to hear that Thomas thought he was cute.

“Don't say that to your sister.” Mrs. Jefferson scolded. 

It was a while longer of chaos like this before James excused himself to get washed up. Once everyone was ready, the five of them spent most of the morning perusing the stands, and looking for activities that would keep the hyperactive seven year olds occupied long enough that Thomas, Mrs. Jefferson, and James could hold a conversation. 

“How did you get into our dorm?” James asked casually as Randolph and Anna ran off to get their faces painted. 

“Thomas sent us a key,” Mrs. Jefferson answered, as if it were no big deal. James shot Thomas a disbelieving look. If people he didn't know were getting the keys to his room, he'd at least like to know. Thomas shrugged. “Where are your parents, James?”

“Oh, uh,” James’s dread returned. “I'm sure they'll show up at some point. ”  
And, no matter how hard James hoped, they did. It wasn't until one, and after James and Thomas’s family had had a very pleasant lunch at a small diner in Albany. Mrs. Jefferson had driven up, and had offered to pay for lunch somewhere off campus. Thomas, who was undeniably the biggest foodie James had ever met, was already tired of the selection of food at King’s and was almost too eager to agree. 

After the lunch, James had gotten a text announcing the arrival of what was sure to be his doom. 

James’s family wasn't close like Thomas’s. James had spent a good amount of his teenage years at boarding school, and had honestly probably known the family's personal doctor better than he would ever know his father. His family’s money seemed to come from no where in particular, and was older than dirt, although his father still kept a nice farm running on their infinitely large property. 

“Jemmy!” His father called as he exited the family’s souped up SUV. 

Thomas snickered. “Jemmy?” He asked under his breath. James elbowed him in the ribs.

“Hey, dad,” James tried to sound pleased, at least. He watched as his mother and three of his six siblings emerged from the car. 

“Hi, darling,” His mother shrilled. “I'm so sorry more of your siblings didn't come. The would have loved to see you, but you know how busy the college search has kept Francis.” 

Except that only explained why Francis hadn't come, and James was fairly certain that at least Catlett had complained her way out of coming. She always did. Not that he was upset, in fact, he was thankful he didn't have to deal with Francis or Ambrose. 

“Jemmy!” Sarah, perhaps James’s only sibling who was indifferent, at best, towards him, ran and nearly knocked the air out of his lungs with a hug. She was six, and easily excitable.   
“Hey there,” James said once he had regained his breath. 

“You know,” James’s mother was already to talk about dinner and leaving behind the children before they were even ten feet from the car. “I hear there’s a magnificent bistro a mile or so from here.” She paused tactically. “And, I read that there’s provided child care in the Sigma Pi dorms.” She said the last part more exclusively to Mrs. Jefferson, who looked less than eager. 

“Our treat, of course.” Mr. Madison assured Mrs. Jefferson. 

“I guess it couldn't hurt.” She admitted after a little bit more goading. 

“You know,” James interjected forcefully, more so than he thought he ever had. It was enough to prompt a risen eyebrow from Thomas. “Thomas and I could stay with the kids, so you don't have to just leave them with strangers.”

“That's so sweet, Jemmy,” and, before he had even really had it, his hope was gone. “But I'm sure we can trust them. Besides, we all need to get caught up.”

His fate sealed, James sat in misery the entire ride to the bistro. Thomas, in all his rantings about his own family, had never bothered to ask about James’s family. James had never had an opportunity to warn him. 

“So,” they were sliding into a booth when the first horrific moment of the night struck. “Is this your boyfriend, Jemmy?”

James felt his stomach drop. He couldn't stop his mind from jumping to all the times before that Thomas had said something to, or about, John Laurens, admonishing his sexuality. 

“No!” He denied, a little too forcefully, once again. “God, no.” He tried to laugh it off. He didn't dare look over at Thomas. “He's my roommate.”

The rest of the night passed at the same caliber. With his parents spotting the otherwise pleasant conversation with unbearably awkward or embarrassing comments. It wasn't until his mother, just as predicted, suggested that he and Thomas would make a good couple, that James ran out of patients, something he prided himself on possessing quite a bit of. 

He had left enough money to pay for his meal before storming out of the restaurant. He didn't have that much money to spare, and he knew it. But, James had also convinced himself that the statement was more important than thirty-some dollars. 

He made his way back to dorm 102 and slammed the door. Thomas didn't come back until James had had almost thirty minutes to stew.

“They really get under your skin, huh?” Thomas asked. James didn't answer. He was laying on his back in his bed and staring blankly at the ceiling, and he was pretty sure the answer to Thomas’s question was fairly obvious. “I mean,” Thomas took a long while to get out his next words. “We would make a cute couple, right?” He laughed. 

It wasn't mocking. It wasn't mean spirited. If anything, it was awkward. It was bashful. 

“I'm aromantic.” It wasn't meant as a rejection. There had never been anyone that James had wanted more than Thomas. Aside from the fact that he was hot, Thomas seemed like the perfect person to spend a lifetime with. Funny, smart and just difficult enough. 

“Oh,” James had decided, in the thirty minutes he had had, that ripping off the bandaid was the best way to go about it. He was starting to doubt that now, though. He didn't want to lose Thomas. 

“And I'm homosexual.” The ceiling was a lot easier to face than Thomas. 

“Yeah?” Thomas didn't sound as repulsed as James had imagined he would. “Funny, so am I.”

James’s hear seized. “What?” He yelled in disbelief, slamming his head on the ceiling as he shot up to look at Thomas. To make sure he wasn't joking. 

Thomas took a deep breath. He didn't look as confident as he had sounded. “Yeah. I just,” he was sitting on his own bed, and his eyes were trained on the ground. James watched the back of his head as he revised his sentence. “I was worried if you knew you'd freak out.”

James opened his mouth several times, unable to think of anything to say. 

“So, I figure,” now Thomas stood, his usual bravado returning. “That you being aromantic means that I've got to make the first move, right?”


End file.
